Richard Sharpe:
Tell General Chaumier, we will fight him to the death.
Ducos:
[laughs]
Major Sharpe is not well. We outnumber you ten to one. There will be no terms if you do not surrender immediately.
[For answer, Sharpe plucks off Ducos's glasses, drops them to the ground, and crushes them with his boot]
Richard Sharpe:
To the death.
Sir Augustus Farthingale:
I'm in charge here, *Major* Sharpe! We shall discuss terms immediately.
[Ducos smirks. Sharpe grabs Farthingdale by the arm and pulls him aside]
Richard Sharpe:
Your wife was a whore, sir. I know, for I was once her lover. Let that get out, and you'll be the laughingstock of Lisbon, and then of London. Leave now, and on my honor, no word of it shall pass my lips.
Sir Augustus Farthingale:
[pale]
But... but I do love her, you know.
[Sharpe sneers and returns Farthingdale's watch with a slap]
Richard Sharpe:
You're a damned liar.
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05/03/2025 alle ore 09:04
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