The Princess Bride: The Good Parts Version

The Princess Bride

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The Grandson: A book?
Grandpa: That’s right.  When I was your age, television was called books.  And this is a special book.  It was the book my father used to read to me when I was sick, and I used to read it to your father.  And today I’m gonna read it to you.
The Grandson: Has it got any sports in it?
Grandpa: Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles…
The Grandson: Doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll try to stay awake.
Grandpa: Oh, well, thank you very much, very nice of you. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.

Grandpa reads: Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Westley around.
Buttercup: Farm boy, polish my horse’s saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.
Westley: As you wish.
Grandpa: “As you wish” was all he ever said to her.
Buttercup: Farm boy, fill these with water – please.
Westley: As you wish.
Grandpa: That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying “As you wish”, what he meant was, “I love you.” And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.
Buttercup: Farm boy… (she looks about for something to order him to do, and looks up) Fetch me that pitcher.
(It’s right over her head, so he has to stand very close)
Westley (softly): As you wish.
(Outside. Sunset.  He bends slowly and kis-)
The Grandson (interrupts): Hold it, hold it. What is this? Are you trying to trick me? Where’s the sports? (suspiciously) Is this a kissing book?
Grandpa: Wait, just wait.
The Grandson: Well, when does it get good?
Grandpa: Keep your shirt on, and let me read.

Westley: Hear this now: I will always come for you.
Buttercup: But how can you be sure?
Westley: This is true love – you think this happens every day?

Vizzini: A word, my lady. We are but poor, lost circus performers. Is there a village nearby?
Buttercup: There is nothing nearby, not for miles.
Vizzini: Then there will be no one to hear you scream.

Fezzik: You never said anything about killing anyone.
Vizzini: I’ve hired you to help me start a war. It’s a prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition.
Fezzik: I just don’t think it’s right, killing an innocent girl.
Vizzini: Am I going MAD, or did the word “think” escape your lips? You were not hired for your brains, you hippopotamic land mass.
Inigo: I agree with Fezzik.
Vizzini: Oh, the sot has spoken. What happens to her is not truly your concern. I will kill her. And remember this, never forget this: when I found you, you were so slobbering drunk, you couldn’t buy brandy! (turns on Fezzik) And you: friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed?  In Greenland?

Inigo: That Vizzini, he can *fuss*.
Fezzik: Fuss, fuss… I think he like to scream at *us*.
Inigo: Probably he means no *harm*.
Fezzik: He’s very very short on *charm*.
Inigo: You have a great gift for rhyme.
Fezzik: Yes, yes, some of the time.
Vizzini: Enough of that!
Inigo: Fezzik, are there rocks ahead?
Fezzik: If there are, we’ll all be dead.
Vizzini: No more rhymes now, I mean it.
Fezzik: Anybody want a peanut?
Vizzini: Yargh!

Inigo: You are sure nobody is follow us?
Vizzini: As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable. No one in Guilder knows what we’ve done, and no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast. (All confidence, he leans back his head and closes his eyes.  And opens them again)… Out of curiosity, why do you ask?
Inigo: No reason. It’s only… I just happened to look behind us and something is there.
Vizzini: What?  (He joins Inigo at the stern and – sure enough) Probably some local fisherman, out for a pleasure cruise, at night… through … eel-infested waters…

Vizzini: Go in. Get after her.
Inigo: I don’t swim.
Fezzik: I only doggy-paddle. (demonstrating)
Vizzini: Yargh!!

Grandpa: She doesn’t get eaten by the eels at this time.
The Grandson: What?
Grandpa: The eel doesn’t get her. I’m explaining this to you because you look nervous.
The Grandson (relaxing the death grip he has on his blanket): I wasn’t nervous. Maybe I was a little bit concerned, but that’s not the same thing.

Inigo: He’s right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using.

Vizzini: Faster.
Fezzik: I thought I was going faster.

(The rope is cut, and slithers over the side of the cliff.  Vizzini and the others edge closer and look over, and see the Man in Black clinging to the rock face.)
Vizzini: He didn’t fall!? Inconceivable!!
Inigo: You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

Inigo (calling down to the climber): Hello there. Slow going?
Man in Black: Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.
Inigo: Sorry.
Man in Black: Thank you.

Inigo: I do no’ suppose you could espeed things up?
The Man in Black (sounding understandably exasperated): If you’re in such a hurry, you could lower a rope or a tree branch or find something useful to do.
Inigo: I could do that. I have some rope up here, but I do not think you would accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you.
Man in Black: That does put a damper on our relationship.

Inigo: But, I promise I will not kill you until you reach the top.
Man in Black: That’s VERY comforting, but I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait.
Inigo: I hate waiting. I could give you my word as a Spaniard.
Man in Black: No good. I’ve known too many Spaniards.
Inigo: Isn’t there any way you trust me?
Man in Black: Nothing comes to mind.
Inigo: I swear on the soul of my father, Domingo Montoya, you will reach the top alive.
Man in Black: Throw me the rope.

Inigo: I do not mean to pry, but you don’t by any chance happen to have six fingers on your right hand …?
Man in Black: Do you always begin conversations this way?

Inigo: You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you.
Westley: You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.

Inigo: You are using Bonetti’s Defense against me, eh?
Man in Black: I thought it fitting considering the rocky terrain.
Inigo: Naturally, you must suspect me to attack with Capa Ferro?
Man in Black: Naturally… but I find that Thibault cancels out Capa Ferro. Don’t you?
Inigo: Unless the enemy has studied his Agrippa… which I have.

Inigo: You are wonderful.
Man in Black: Thank you; I’ve worked hard to become so.
Inigo: I admit it, you are better than I am.
Man in Black: Then why are you smiling?
Inigo: Because I know something you don’t know.
Man in Black: And what is that?
Inigo: I… am not left-handed. (He tosses the sword smoothly to his right hand and – so to speak – takes the upper hand)
Man in Black: You are amazing.
Inigo: I ought to be, after 20 years.
Man in Black: Oh, there’s something I ought to tell you.
Inigo: Tell me.
Man in Black: I’m not left-handed either.

Inigo: Who are you?
Man in Black: No one of consequence.
Inigo: I must know…
Man in Black: Get used to disappointment.
Inigo (shrugs): ‘Kay.

Inigo: Kill me quickly.
Westley: I would sooner destroy a stained glass window than an artist like yourself. However, since I can’t have you follow me either… (knocks him out with his pommel) Please understand I hold you in the highest respect.

Vizzini: Finish him. Finish him, your way.
Fezzik: Oh good, my way. Thank you Vizzini… which one’s my way?
Vizzini: Pick up one of those rocks, get behind a boulder, in a few minutes the man in black will come running around the bend, the minute his head is in view, hit it with the rock.
Fezzik: My way’s not very sportsmanlike.

Fezzik: We face each other as God intended. Sportsmanlike. No tricks, no weapons, skill against skill alone.
Man in Black: You mean, you’ll put down your rock and I’ll put down my sword, and we’ll try and kill each other like civilized people?
Fezzik (brandishing rock): I could kill you now.
Man in Black (setting his sword down): I think the odds are slightly in your favor at hand fighting.
Fezzik: It’s not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don’t even exercise.

Westley: Are you toying with me?
Fezzik: No! I want you to feel you’re doing well. I hate for people to die unhappy.

Westley: I do not envy you the headache you will have when you awake. But for now, rest well and dream of large women.

Vizzini: I can’t compete with you physically, and you’re no match for my brains.
Westley: You’re that smart?
Vizzini: Let me put it this way. Have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?
Westley: Yes.
Vizzini: Morons.

Man in Black: All right. Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right… and who is dead.
Vizzini: But it’s so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy’s? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
Man in Black: You’ve made your decision then?
Vizzini: Not remotely. Because iocaine comes from Australia, as everyone knows, and Australia is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.
Man in Black: Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.
Vizzini: Wait till I get going! Now, where was I?
Man in Black: Australia.
Vizzini: Yes, Australia. And you must have suspected I would have known the powder’s origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
Man in Black: You’re just stalling now.
Vizzini: You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? You’ve beaten my giant, which means you’re exceptionally strong, so you could’ve put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you’ve also bested my Spaniard, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
Man in Black: You’re trying to trick me into giving away something. It won’t work.
Man in Black: Then make your choice.
Vizzini: I will, and I choose – (looks exaggeratedly past the Man in Black, and points) What in the world can that be?
Man in Black (turning and looking): What? Where? I don’t see anything.
(While his back is turned Vizzini switches the cups)
Vizzini: Well, I- I could have sworn I saw something.  No matter.  First, let’s drink. Me from my glass, and you from yours.
(Vizzini can barely keep from laughing; he holds up his goblet in a salute.  The Man in Black returns the toast, and they drink)
Man in Black (smiling): You guessed wrong.
Vizzini (chortling): You only think I guessed wrong! That’s what’s so funny! I switched glasses when your back was turned! Ha ha! You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha…
(very abruptly the laughter stops, and Vizzini falls over.  The Man in Black removes Buttercup’s blindfold, and she is amazed)
Buttercup: And to think, all that time it was your cup that was poisoned.
Man in Black: They were both poisoned. I spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocaine powder.

Buttercup: You’re the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it.
Man in Black: With pride. What can I do for you?
Buttercup: You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces.
Man in Black: Tsk, tsk. That’s hardly complimentary Highness. Why loose your venom on me?
Buttercup: You killed my love.
Man in Black: It’s possible. I kill a lot of people.

Buttercup: You mock my pain.
Man in Black: Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.

Prince Humperdinck: She is alive, or was an hour ago. If she is otherwise when I find her I shall be very put out.

Buttercup: And you can die too for all I care! (pushes the Man in Black down the hill)
As he rolls down the hill, a voice floats back up to her, jolting with the fall
Man in Black: Aaaas … youuuu  … wiiiish!
Buttercup: Oh my sweet Westley! What have I done? (she flings herself down the hill after him)

Westley: Can you move at all?
Buttercup: You’re alive. If you want I could fly.

The Grandson: They’re kissing again. Do we have to read the kissing parts?

Westley: I told you I would always come for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?
Buttercup: Well… you were dead.
Westley: Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.
Buttercup: I will never doubt again.
Westley: There will never be a need.

Good night, Westley. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.

Westley: Roberts had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. He took me to his cabin and he told me his secret. ‘I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts’ he said. ‘My name is Ryan; I inherited the ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me. The man I inherited it from is not the real Dread Pirate Roberts either. His name was Cummerbuck. The real Roberts has been retired 15 years and living like a king in Patagonia.’

Westley: No one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Westley.

Buttercup: We’ll never survive.
Westley: Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has.

(Buttercup and Westley have just entered the Fire Swamp)
Westley (looking around): It’s not that bad. (Buttercup stares unbelievingly at him) Well, I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely.

Buttercup: We’ll never succeed. We may as well die here.
Westley: No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt – no problem. There’s a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.
Buttercup: Westley, what about the R.O.U.S.’s?
Westley: Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don’t think they exist.
(He no sooner finishes his sentence than a Rodent Of VERY Unusual Size leaps onto him and takes him down)

Prince Humperdinck: Surrender.
Westley: You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept.

Inigo: – I – am – waiting – for – Vizzini…
Fezzik: You surely are a meanie. (Inigo registers who it is) Hello.
Inigo: It’s you.
Fezzik: True!

Inigo: (pushing his way through a crowd) Excuse me… Excuse me… Fezzik, please?
Inigo: (everybody clears a path) Thank you.

Grandpa: It was ten days to the wedding. The King still lived, but Buttercup’s nightmares were growing steadily worse.
The Grandson: See?! Didn’t I tell you she’d never marry that rotten Humperdinck??
Grandpa: Yes, you’re very smart. Shut up.

Buttercup: You can’t hurt me. Westley and I are joined by the bonds of love. And you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords.

Inigo: Where is the Man in Black? (the Albino doesn’t answer) Fezzik, jog his memory.
(Fezzik bops the Albino on the top of the head with one massive fist.  The Albino falls over)
Fezzik: Sorry, Inigo. I didn’t mean to jog him so hard.

Miracle Max: Go away or I’ll call the Brute Squad.
Fezzik: I’m on the Brute Squad.
Miracle Max: You are the Brute Squad!

Inigo: Are you the Miracle Max who worked for the king all those years?
Miracle Max: The King’s stinking son fired me, and thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. While you’re at it, why don’t you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it? We’re closed.

Miracle Max: Get back, witch.
Valerie: I’m not a witch, I’m your wife. But after what you just said, I’m not even sure I want to be that any more.

Miracle Max: Sonny, true love is the greatest thing, in the world-except for a nice MLT – mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe …they’re so perky, I love that.

Miracle Max: You got any money?
Inigo: Sixty-five.
Miracle Max: I’ve never worked for so little. Except once, and that was a very noble cause.
Inigo: This is noble, sir. His wife is… crippled. His children are on the brink of starvation.
Miracle Max: Are you a rotten liar.
Inigo: I need him to help avenge my father, murdered these twenty years.
Miracle Max: Your first story was better.

Inigo: But this is Buttercup’s true love – If you heal him, he will stop Humperdinck’s wedding.
Miracle Max: Wait. Wait. I make him better, Humperdinck suffers?
Inigo: Humiliations galore!
Miracle Max: That is a noble cause. Give me the sixty-five, I’m on the job.

Miracle Max: (Lifts and drops the arm of the dead Westley) I’ve seen worse.

Miracle Max: You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.

Miracle Max: He probably owes you money huh? I’ll ask him.
Inigo: He’s dead. He can’t talk.
Miracle Max: Whoo-hoo-hoo, look who knows so much. It just so happens that your friend here is only MOSTLY dead. There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive. With all dead, well, with all dead there’s usually only one thing you can do.
Inigo: What’s that?
Miracle Max: Go through his clothes and look for loose change.

Inigo: That’s a miracle pill?
Valerie: The chocolate coating makes it go down easier. But you have to wait fifteen minutes for full potency. And you shouldn’t go in swimming after, for at least, what?
Max: An hour.
Valerie: A good hour.

Valerie: Bye bye, boys!
Miracle Max: Have fun storming the castle.
Valerie: Think it’ll work?
Miracle Max: It would take a miracle.

Fezzik: Inigo?
Inigo: What?
Fezzik: I hope we win.

Westley: Why can’t I move? Why am I up against this wall?
Fezzik: You’ve been mostly dead all day.

The Impressive Clergyman: Mawaige. Mawaige is wot bwings us togeder to-day. Mawaige, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam… And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva… So tweasure your wuv.
Prince Humperdinck: Skip to the end.
The Impressive Clergyman: Have you the wing? …and do you, Pwincess Buwwercup…
Prince Humperdinck (through clenched teeth): Man and wife. Say man and wife.
The Impressive Clergyman: Man an’ wife.

Buttercup, the king, and the queen are trailing down the corridor.  Buttercup stops, and gives the king a kiss on the cheek
The King: What was that for?
Buttercup: Because you have always been so kind to me, and I won’t be seeing you again since I’m killing myself once we reach the honeymoon suite.
The King: Won’t that be nice. She kissed me.

Westley: Who are you? Are we enemies? Why am I on this wall? Where is Buttercup?
Inigo: Let me ‘splain. (pause) No, there is too much. Let me sum up. Buttercup is marry Humperdinck in a little less than half an hour. So all we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the princess, make our escape… after I kill Count Rugen.
Westley: That doesn’t leave much time for dilly-dallying.
Fezzik: You just wiggled your finger. That’s wonderful.
Westley: I’ve always been a quick healer. What are our liabilities?
Inigo: There is but one working castle gate, and… (checks) and it is guarded by 60 men.
Westley: And our assets?
Inigo: Your brains, Fezzik’s strength, my steel.

Fezzik: You just shook your head… doesn’t that make you happy?
Westley: My brains, his steel, and your strength against sixty men, and you think a little head jiggle is supposed to make me happy?

Westley: I mean, if we only had a wheelbarrow, that would be something.
Inigo: Where we did we put that wheelbarrow the albino had?
Fezzik: Over the albino, I think.
Westley: Well, why didn’t you list that among our assets in the first place?

Fezzik: My men are here! I am here! But soon you will not be here!

Westley: Give us the gate key.
Yellin: I have no gate key.
Inigo: Fezzik, tear his arms off.
Yellin: Oh, you mean *this* gate key.

Westley: There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.

Count Rugen: You must be that little Spanish brat I taught a lesson to all those years ago. You’ve been chasing me your whole life only to fail now? I think that’s about the worst thing I’ve ever heard. How marvelous.

(Inigo stands up after a knife thrown by Count Rugen hits him in the stomach)
Count Rugen: Good heavens. Are you still trying to win?
(Inigo falls back against the wall)
Count Rugen: You’ve got an overdeveloped sense of vengeance. It’s going to get you into trouble someday
(Rugen draws his sword and lunges at Inigo who weakly parries the blade, into his left shoulder. Again Rugen lunges at Inigo and the blade is deflected to Inigo’s right arm.  The next attempt at a blow, Inigo blocks, and drags himself upright.)
Inigo: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father.  Prepare to die.
(He continues to move forward, but slumps onto the table. Rugen goes on the attack, and Inigo blocks four blows – and starts forward again.)
Inigo: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father.  Prepare to die.
(Five more of Rugen’s blows are handily parried.)
Inigo (louder): Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father.  Prepare to die.
Count Rugen: Stop saying that!
(Rugen attacks again.  Inigo blocks it again, and then stabs Rugen in the shoulder. Then Rugen takes a swing at him, which Inigo ducks to come up and stab Rugen in the other shoulder. Then he advances quickly into a flurry of blows.)
Inigo: Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya! You killed my father – prepare to die!
(He knocks Rugen’s sword aside, and slices his cheek.)
Count Rugen: No!
Inigo: Offer me money.
Count Rugen: Yes!
Inigo: Power too – promise me that!
(He slices Rugen’s other cheek)
Count Rugen: All that I have and more! Please!
Inigo: Offer me everything I ask for.
Count Rugen: Anything you want.
(Rugen attacks, hoping to catch him by surprise – but Inigo grabs his arm and stabs Rugen in the stomach)
Inigo: I want my father back you son of a bitch.
(Inigo plunges the sword into Rugen’s gut, finishing it.)

Prince Humperdinck: First things first.  To the death.
Westley: No. To the pain.
Prince Humperdinck: I don’t think I’m quite familiar with that phrase.
Westley: I’ll explain.  And I’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog-faced buffoon.
Prince Humperdinck (winces): That may be the first time in my life a man has dared insult me.
Westley: It won’t be the last. To the pain means the first thing you will lose will be your feet below the ankles. Then your hands at the wrists. Next your nose.
Prince Humperdinck (rolling his eyes): And then my tongue I suppose, I killed you too quickly the last time. A mistake I don’t mean to duplicate tonight.
Westley: I wasn’t finished. The next thing you will lose will be your left eye, followed by your right.
Prince Humperdinck: And then my ears, I understand, let’s get on with it.
Westley: WRONG. Your ears you keep – and I’ll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, “Dear God! What is that thing” will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever.
Prince Humperdinck: I think you’re bluffing.
Westley: It’s possible, pig, I might be bluffing. It’s conceivable, you miserable, vomitous mass, that I’m only lying here because I lack the strength to stand. But, then again… perhaps I have the strength after all.
(slowly rises and points sword directly at the prince)

Inigo: Fezzik, you did something right.
Fezzik: Don’t worry, I won’t let it go to my head.

Inigo: Is very strange. I have been in the revenge business so long, now that it’s over, I don’t know what to do with the rest of my life.
Westley: Have you ever considered piracy? You’d make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts.

Grandpa: And as they reached for each other… Ah.  Ah.  (closes the book)
The Grandson: What? What?
Grandpa: Ah, it’s kissing again. You don’t want to hear that.
The Grandson: I don’t mind so much.
Grandpa: Oh, okay.  (opens the book)

Grandpa (reading): Since the invention of the kiss there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind. The End.

The Grandson: Grandpa, maybe you could come over and read it again to me tomorrow.
Grandpa: As you wish.

3 Responses to The Princess Bride: The Good Parts Version

  1. Pingback: The Princess Bride – William Goldman « Stewartry

  2. And now the princess is a warrior. Who knew it could get better?

  3. stewartry says:

    So I hear! Can’t wait to see it. (Thanks for the follow!)

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