The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure

The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure

William Goldman

Language: English

Pages: 512

ISBN: 0156035219

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


William Goldman's modern fantasy classic is a simple, exceptional story about quests—for riches, revenge, power, and, of course, true love—that's thrilling and timeless.

 

Anyone who lived through the 1980s may find it impossible—inconceivable, even—to equate The Princess Bride with anything other than the sweet, celluloid romance of Westley and Buttercup, but the film is only a fraction of the ingenious storytelling you'll find in these pages. Rich in character and satire, the novel is set in 1941 and framed cleverly as an “abridged” retelling of a centuries-old tale set in the fabled country of Florin that's home to “Beasts of all natures and descriptions. Pain. Death. Brave men. Coward men. Strongest men. Chases. Escapes. Lies. Truths. Passions.”

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began to be realized. From twentieth, she jumped within two weeks to fifteenth, an unheard-of change in such a time. But three weeks after that she was already ninth and moving. The competition was tremendous now, but the day after she was ninth a three-page letter arrived from Westley in London and just reading it over put her up to eighth. That was really what was doing it for her more than anything— her love for Westley would not stop growing, and people were dazzled when she delivered milk in

“Begin the battle!” “Pour the wine,” said the man in black. Vizzini filled the two goblets with deep-red liquid. The man in black pulled from his dark clothing a small packet and handed it to the hunchback. “Open it and inhale, but be careful not to touch.” Vizzini took the packet and followed instructions. “I smell nothing.” The man in black took the packet again. “What you do not smell is called iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless and dissolves immediately in any kind of liquid. It

had even entirely disappeared, he had dropped his sword and long knife and had gotten the vine coil from his shoulder. It took him next to no time to knot one end around a giant tree, and, holding tight to the free end, he simply dove headlong into the Snow Sand, kicking his feet as he sank, for greater speed. There was no question in his mind of failure. He knew he would find her and he knew she would be upset and hysterical and possibly even brain tumbled. But alive. And that was, in the end,

the endless thunderous “hip hips,” until Buttercup said, “Please, may I walk once more among them?” and the King said with a nod that she might and down she went again, as on the day of the wedding announcement, radiant and alone, and again the people swept apart to let her pass, weeping and cheering and bowing and— —and then one person booed. On the balcony watching it all Humperdinck reacted instantly, gesturing soldiers into the area where the sound had come from, dispatching more troops

“Cover it . . .” Inigo said, and he pulled the knife from his body and stuffed his left fist into the bleeding. Inigo’s eyes began to focus again, not well, not perfectly, but enough to see the Count’s blade as it approached his heart, and Inigo couldn’t do much with the attack, parry it vaguely, push the point of the blade into his left shoulder where it did no unendurable harm. Count Rugen was a bit surprised that his point had been deflected, but there was nothing wrong with piercing a

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