what is that you're ripping? i agree with fezzik. that vizzini, he can fuss. probably he means no harm. oh, you've a great gift for rhyme. fezzik, are there rocks ahead? making sure nobody's following us. you're sure nobody's following us? no reason. it's only, i just happened to look behind us, and something is there. i don't swim. pointing behind them. i think he's getting closer. look! he's right on top of us. i wonder if he is using the same wind we are using. hurrying to fezzik. he straps a harness to him, then lifts buttercup and vizzini in the harness. finally, he himself gets in the harness. all three are strapped to fezzik like papooses. he's climbing the rope. and he's gaining on us. you keep using that word -- i do not think it means what you think it means. my god! he's climbing. i want to duel him left-handed. well, it's the only way i can be satisfied. if i use my right -- tch -- over too quickly. he watches them depart, then turns, peers down over the cliffs. he watches a moment, then paces, shaking his hands loose. he practices a few of his honed fencing skills. he is a taut and nervous fellow, and has never been one for waiting around. walking away. finally he goes back to cliff edge, starts to talk. it's instant death if the man in black falls, but neither gives that possibility much credence. this is our two heroes meeting. they don't know it yet; but that's what it is. hello there. slow going? sorry. i do not suppose you could speed things up? i could do that. in fact, i've got some rope up here. but i do not think that you will accept my help, since i am only waiting around to kill you. but i promise i will not kill you until you reach the top. i hate waiting. i could give you my word as a spaniard. you don't know any way you'll trust me? i swear on the soul of my father, domingo montoya, you will reach the top alive. he dashes to the giant rock the rope was originally tied to. now with a small coil of rope, hurries back to the edge and hurls it over -- straining, forcing his body away from the cliff edge and -- watching as the man in black crawls to safety, then looks to inigo. we'll wait until you're ready. i do not mean to pry, but you don't by any chance happen to have six fingers on your right hand? my father was slaughtered by a sixfingered man. he was a great swordmaker, my father. and when the six-fingered man appeared and requested a special sword, my father took the job. he slaved a year before he was done. the six-fingered man returned and demanded it, but at one-tenth his promised price. my father refused. without a word, the six-fingered man slashed him through the heart. i loved my father, so, naturally, challenged his murderer to a duel . i failed . the six-fingered man did leave me alive with the six-fingered sword, but he gave me these. i was eleven years old. when i was strong enough, i dedicated my life to the study of fencing. so the next time we meet, i will not fail. i will go up to the sixfingered man and say, "hello, my name is inigo montoya. you killed my father. prepare to die." more pursuit than study lately. you see, i cannot find him. it's been twenty years now. i am starting to lose confidence. i just work for vizzini to pay the bills. there's not a lot of money in revenge. you are ready, then? you seem a decent fellow. i hate to kill you. begin! you're using bonetti's defense against me, ah? naturally, you must expect me to attack with capo ferro. unless the enemy has studied his agrippa- -- which i have. and behind him now, drawing closer all the time, is the deadly edge of the cliffs of insanity. inigo fights and ducks and feints and slashes and it all works, but not for long, as gradually the man in black keeps the advantage, keeps forcing inigo back, closer and closer to death. you are wonderful! i admit it -- you are better than i am. because i know something you don't know. i am not left-handed. and the six-fingered sword is all but invisible now, as he increases his attack, then suddenly switches styles again. i ought to be after twenty years. tell me. and to his amazement, he is being forced back down the steps. he tries one style, another, but it all comes down to the same thing -- the man in black seems to be in control. and before inigo knows it, the six-fingered sword is knocked clear out of his hand. staring in awe. who are you?! i must know. okay. moving like lightning, and he thrusts forward, slashes, darts back, all in almost a single movement and -- and there is never a move anyone makes he doesn't remember, and this time he blocks the slash, slashes out himself with the sixfingered sword. catching it again. and something terrible is written behind his eyes: he has given his all, done everything man can do, tried every style, made every maneuver, but it wasn't enough, and on his face for all to see is the realization that he, inigo montoya of spain, is going to lose. kill me quickly. drunk as a skunk, sprawled in front of a hovel, a bottle of brandy in one hand, the six-fingered sword in the other. he looks dreadful. unshaven, puffy-eyed, gaunt. but the way he brandishes the great sword in front of him would give anyone cause for worry. i am waiting for you, vizzini. you told me to go back to the beginning. so i have. this is where i am, and this is where i'll stay. i will not be moved. i do not budge. keep your "ho there." -- so did vizzini -- when a job went wrong, you went back to the beginning. and this is where we got the job. so it's the beginning, and i'm staying till vizzini comes. -- i -- am -- waiting -- for -- vizzini -- it's you. perhaps not. i feel fine. that's enough. that's enough! where is this rugen so i may kill him? how many could you handle? that leaves twenty for me. at my best, i could never defeat that many. i need vizzini to plan. i have no gift for strategy. no -- not vizzini -- i need the man in black -- -- look, he bested you with strength, your greatness. he bested me with steel. he must have outthought vizzini, and a man who can do that can plan my castle's onslaught any day. let's go -- to find the man in black, obviously. don't bother me with trifles; after twenty years, at last, my father's soul will be at peace. there will be blood tonight!! his true love is marrying another tonight, so who else has cause for ultimate suffering? excuse me -- -- pardon me, it's important -- -- fezzik, please -- thank you. where is the man in black? you get there from this grove, yes? fezzik, jog his memory. he kneels, the sword held tight between his hands. eyes closed, he faces the grove of trees, starts to talk, his voice low and strange. father, i have failed you for twenty years. now our misery can end. somewhere . somewhere close by is a man who can help us. i cannot find him alone. i need you. i need you to guide my sword. please. guide my sword. walking blind through the grove of trees. he moves to the secret knot, hesitates, then moves past it. it just is not fair. well, we montoyas have never taken defeat easily. come along, fezzik. bring the body. have you any money? i just hope it's enough to buy a miracle, that's all. are you the miracle max who worked for the king all those years? we need a miracle. it's very important. he's already dead. sir. sir. we're really in a terrible rush. sixty-five. this is noble, sir. his wife is crippled. his children are on the brink of starvation. i need him to help avenge my father, murdered these twenty years. he's dead. he can't talk. what's that? true love. you heard him. you could not ask for a more noble cause than that. -- but this is buttercup's true love -- if you heal him, he will stop humperdinck's wedding. humiliations galore! that's a miracle pill? thank you for everything. what's the difference? we've got him. help me here. we'll have to force feed him. we can't wait -- the wedding's in half an hour and we must strike in the hustle and the bustle beforehand. tilt his head back. open his mouth. pill in hand, he drops it into westley's mouth. your guess is as good as mine -- we had miracle max make a pill to bring you back. let me explain -- -- no, there is too much. let me sum up. buttercup is marrying 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. there is but one working castle gate. and it is guarded by sixty men. your brains, fezzik's strength, my steel. where did we put that wheelbarrow the albino had? there we cannot help you. where did you get that? why? you can't even lift one. i'll say -- how do i find the count? -- once i do, how do i find you again? -- once i find you again, how do we escape? -- right, right, sorry. what? now? now? fezzik, tear his arms off. hello. my name is inigo montoya. you killed my father. prepare to die. momentarily surprised, then taking off after him, leaving westley and fezzik to exchange curious looks and rugen, running through a half-open heavy wooden door, shutting it and locking it just as inigo throws himself against it. he tries again. no kind of chance. fezzik, i need you -- desperately pounding at the heavy door. he's getting away from me, fezzik. please. fezzik! still hammering the door. fezzik approaches, gestures for him to stop, and with one mighty swipe of his mighty hands the door crumbles thank you -- behind him, coming like a streak and -- closing the gap, closer, closer and he's down the stairs and heading into a dining hall and -- trying like hell to get out of the way, but no, and it sticks deep into his stomach, and he hurtles back helplessly against the wall of the room, his eyes glazed, blood coming from his wound. sorry, father . i tried . i tried. and as this blow comes he's trying to use the wall for support in forcing himself to his feet, and it's not a roaring success of an attempt, but he does at least make some progress, and again he manages to parry the thrust, as this time rugen's sword runs through his right arm. again, inigo doesn't seem to mind, doesn't even feel it. slowly pushing away from the wall. hello. my name is inigo montoya, you killed my father; prepare to die. pushing slowly off from the wall again. hello. my name is inigo montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die. hello. my name is inigo montoya. you killed my father. prepare to die. hello! my name is inigo montoya. -- offer me money -- -- power too -- promise me that -- -- offer me everything i ask for -- i want my father back, you son- ofa-bitch! and almost too fast for the eye to follow, the sword strikes one final time and -- staring at rugen. and now inigo does something we have never seen him do before: he smiles. hold for just a moment on inigo smiling, then -- entering, looking around. where's fezzik? no. help him. because he has no strength -- shall i dispatch him for you? fezzik, you did something right. you know, it's 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.