I'm going to tell you something once and then whether you die or not is strictly up to you," Westley said, lying pleasantly on the bed. Across the room, the Prince held the sword high. "What I'm going to tell you is this: drop your sword, and if you do, then I will leave with this baggage here"-he glanced at Buttercup-"and you will be tied up but not fatally, and will soon be free to go about your business. And if you choose to fight, well, then, we will not both leave alive."

"I expect to breathe a while," the Prince said. "I think you are bluffing-you have been prisoner for months and I myself killed you less than a day ago, so I doubt that you have much might left in your arm."

"Possibly true," Westley agreed, "and when the moment comes, remember that: Imight indeed be bluffing. I could, in fact, be lying right here because I lack the strength to stand. All that, weigh carefully."

"You are only alive now because you said 'to the pain.' I want that phrase explained."

"My pleasure." It was 5:52 now. Three minutes left. He thought he had eighteen. He took a long pause, then started speaking. "Surely, you must have guessed I am no ordinary sailor. I am, in fact, Roberts himself."

"I am, in fact, not the least surprised or awed."

"To the pain means this: if we duel and you win, death for me. If we duel and I win,life for you. But life on my terms."

"Meaning?" It could all still be a trap. His body was at the ready.

"There are those who credit you with skill as a hunter, though I find that doubtful."

The Prince smiled. The fellow was baiting him. Why?

"And if you hunt well, then surely, when you tracked your lady, you must have begun at the Cliffs of Insanity. A duel was fought there and if you noted the movements and the strides, you would know that those were masters battling. They were. Remember this: Iwon that fight. And I am a pirate. We have our special tricks with swords."

It was 5:53. "I am not unfamiliar with steel."

"The first thing you lose will be your feet," Westley said. "The left, then the right. Below the ankle. You will have stumps available to use within six months. Then your hands, at the wrist. They heal somewhat quicker. Five months is a fair average." And now Westley was beginning to be aware of strange changes in his body and he began talking faster, faster and louder. "Next your nose. No smell of dawn for you. Followed by your tongue. Deeply cut away. Not even a stump left. And then your left eye-"

"And then my right eye and then my ears, and shall we get on with it?" the Prince said. It was5:54.

"Wrong!"Westley's voice rang across the room. "Your ears you keep, so that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish-every babe that weeps in fear at your approach, every woman that cries 'Dear God, what is that thing?' will reverberate forever with your perfect ears. That is what 'to the pain' means. It means that I leave you to live in anguish, in humiliation, in freakish misery until you can stand it no more; so there you have it, pig, there you know, you miserable vomitous mass, and I say this now, and live or die, it's up to you:Drop your sword! "

The sword crashed to the floor.

Chapter 8