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I
love you,' Buttercup said. 'I know this must come as something of a surprise to
you, since all I've ever done is scorn you and degrade you and taunt you, but I
have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more. I thought an hour
ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour
after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt
then. But ten minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a
puddle compared to the high seas before a storm. Your eyes are like that, did
you know? Well they are. How many minutes ago was I? Twenty? Had I brought my
feelings up to then? It doesn't matter.' Buttercup still could not look at him.
The sun was rising behind her now; she could feel the heat on her back, and it
gave her courage. 'I love you so much more now than twenty minutes ago that
there cannot be comparison. I love you so much more now then when you opened
your hovel door, there cannot be comparison. There is no room in my body for
anything but you. My arms love you, my ears adore you, my knees shake with
blind affection. My mind begs you to ask it something so it can obey. Do you
want me to follow you for the rest of your days? I will do that. Do you want me
to crawl? I will crawl. I will be quiet for you or sing for you, or if you are
hungry, let me bring you food, or if you have thirst and nothing will quench it
but Arabian wine, I will go to Araby, even though it is across the world, and
bring a bottle back for your lunch. Anything there is that I can do for you, I
will do for you; anything there is that I cannot do, I will learn to do. I know
I cannot compete with the Countess in skills or wisdom or appeal, and I saw the
way she looked at you. And I saw the way you looked at her. But remember,
please, that she is old and has other interests, while I am seventeen and for
me there is only you. Dearest Westley--I've never called you that before, have
I?--Westley, Westley, Westley, Westley, Westley,--darling Westley, adored
Westley, sweet perfect Westley, whisper that I have a chance to win your love.'
And with that, she dared the bravest thing she'd ever done; she looked right
into his eyes. “Poets
often describe love as an emotion that we can't control, one that overwhelms
logic and common sense. That's what it was like for me. I didn't plan on
falling in love with you, and I doubt if oyu planned on fallin gin love with
me. But once we met, it was clear that neither of us could control what was
happening to us. We fell in love, despite our differences, and once we did,
something rare and beautiful was created. For me, love like that has happened
only once, and that's why every minute we spent together has been seared in my
memory. I'll never forget a single moment of it.
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