Уильям Голдман - The Princess Bride

Which is exactly what happened.

She remained unconscious for a very long time. Westley busied himself as best he could, cleansing the Snow Sand from ears and nose and mouth and, most delicate of all, from beneath the lids of her eyes. The length of her quietness disturbed him vaguely; it was almost as if she knew she had died and was afraid to find out for a fact that it was true. He held her in his arms, rocked her slowly. Eventually she was blinking.

For a time she looked around and around. "We lived, then?" she managed finally.

"We're a hardy breed."

"What a wonderful surprise."

"No need—" He was going to say "No need for worry," but her panic struck too quickly. It was a normal enough reaction, and he did not try to block it but, rather, held her firmly and let the hysteria run its course. She shuddered for a time as if she fully intended to fly apart. But that was the worst. From there, it was but a few minutes to quiet sobbing. Then she was Buttercup again.

Westley stood, buckled on his sword, replaced his long knife. "Come," he said. "We have far to go."

"Not until you tell me," she replied. "Why must we endure this?"

"Now is not the time." Westley held out his hand.

"It is the time." She stayed where she was, on the ground.

Westley sighed. She meant it. "All right," he said finally. "I'll explain. But we must keep moving."

Buttercup waited.

"We must get through the Fire Swamp," Westley began, "for one good and simple reason." Once he had started talking, Buttercup stood, following close behind him as he went on. "I had always intended getting to the far side; I had not, I must admit, expected to go through. Around, was my intention, but the ravine forced me to change."

"The good and simple reason," Buttercup prompted.

"On the far end of the Fire Swamp is the mouth of Giant Eel Bay. And anchored far out in the deepest waters of that bay is the great ship Revenge. The Revenge is the sole property of the Dread Pirate Roberts."

"The man who killed you?" Buttercup said. "That man? The one who broke my heart? The Dread Pirate Roberts took your life, that was the story I was told."

"Quite correct," Westley said. "And that ship is our destination."

"You know the Dread Pirate Roberts? You are friendly with such a man?"

"It's a little more than that," Westley said. "I don't expect you to quite grasp this all at once; just believe it's true. You see, I am the Dread Pirate Roberts."

"I fail to see how that is possible, since he has been marauding for twenty years and you only left me three years ago."

"I myself am often surprised at life's little quirks," Westley admitted.

"Did he, in fact, capture you when you were sailing for the Carolinas?"

"He did. His ship Revenge captured the ship I was on, The Queens Pride, and we were all to be put to death."

"But Roberts did not kill you."

"Clearly."

"Why?"

"I cannot say for sure, but I think it is because I asked him please not to. The 'please,' I suspect, aroused his interest. I didn't beg or offer bribery, as the others were doing. At any rate, he held off with his sword long enough to ask, 'Why should I make an exception of you?' and I explained my mission, how I had to get to America to get money to reunite me with the most beautiful woman ever reared by man, namely you. 'I doubt that she is as beautiful as you imagine,' he said, and he raised his sword again. 'Hair the color of autumn,' I said, 'and skin like wintry cream.' 'Wintry cream, eh?' he said. He was interested now, at least a bit, so I went on describing the rest of you, and at the end, I knew I had him convinced of the truth of my affection for you. 'I'll tell you, Westley,' he said then, 'I feel genuinely sorry about this, but if I make an exception in your case, news will get out that the Dread Pirate Roberts has gone soft and that will mark the beginning of my downfall, for once they stop fearing you, piracy becomes nothing but work, work, work all the time, and I am far too old for such a life.' 'I swear I will never tell, not even my beloved,' I said; 'and if you will let me live, I will be your personal valet and slave for five full years, and if I ever once complain or cause you anger, you may chop my head off then and there and I will die with praise for your fairness on my lips.' I knew I had him thinking. 'Go below,' he said. 'I'll most likely kill you tomorrow.'" Westley stopped talking for a moment, and pretended to clear his throat, because he had spotted the first R.O.U.S. following behind them. There seemed no need yet to alert her, so he just continued to clear his throat and hurry along between the flame bursts.

"What happened tomorrow?" Buttercup urged. "Go on."

"Well, you know what an industrious fellow I am; you remember how I liked to learn and how I'd already trained myself to work twenty hours a day. I decided to learn what I could about piracy in the time left allotted me, since it would at least keep my mind off my coming slaughter. So I helped the cook and I cleaned the hold and, in general, did whatever was asked of me, hoping that my energies might be favorably noted by the Dread Pirate Roberts himself. 'Well, I've come to kill you,' he said the next morning, and I said, 'Thank you for the extra time; it's been most fascinating; I've learned such a great deal,' and he said, 'Overnight? What could you learn in that time?' and I said, 'That no one had ever explained to your cook the difference between table salt and cayenne pepper.' 'Things have been a bit fiery this trip,' he admitted. 'Go on, what else?' and I explained that there would have been more room in the hold if boxes had been stacked differently, and then he noticed that I had completely reorganized things down there and, fortunately for me, there was more room, and finally he said, 'Very well, you can be my valet for a day. I've never had a valet before; probably I won't like it, so I'll kill you in the morning.' Every night for the next year he always said something like that to me: 'Thank you for everything, Westley, good night now, I'll probably kill you in the morning.'

"By the end of that year, of course, we were more than valet and master. He was a pudgy little man, not at all fierce, as you would expect the Dread Pirate Roberts to be, and I like to think he was as fond of me as I of him. By then, I had learned really quite a great deal about sailing and hand fighting and fencing and throwing the long knife and had never been in as excellent physical condition. At the end of one year, my captain said to me, 'Enough of this valet business, Westley, from now on you are my second-in-command,' and I said, 'Thank you, sir, but I could never be a pirate,' and he said, 'You want to get back to that autumn-haired creature of yours, don't you?' and I didn't even have to bother answering that. 'A good year or two of piracy and you'll be rich and back you go,' and I said, 'Your men have been with you for years and they aren't rich,' and he said, 'That's because they are not the captain. I am going to retire soon, Westley, and the Revenge will be yours.' I must admit, beloved, I weakened a bit there, but we reached no final decision. Instead, he agreed to let me assist him in the next few captures and see how I liked it. Which I did." There was now another R.O.U.S. following them. Flanking them as they moved.

Buttercup saw them now. "Westley—"

"Shhh. It's all right. I'm watching them. Shall I finish? Will it take your mind off them?"

"You helped him with the next few captures," Buttercup said. "To see if you liked it."

Westley dodged a sudden burst of flame, shielded Buttercup from the heat. "Not only did I like it, but it turned out I was talented, as well. So talented that Roberts said to me one April morning, 'Westley, the next ship is yours; let's see how you do.' That afternoon we spotted a fat Spanish beauty, loaded for Madrid. I sailed up close. They were in a panic. 'Who is it?' their captain cried. 'Westley,' I told him. 'Never heard of you,' he answered, and with that they opened fire.