Half of 20 into whiskies? Sickness abroad, so a Minister for Moral Restraint

Usage examples of marques.

To the Marquesa's surprise, indeed, to the surprise of many people, the Marques had defeated them.

It replied to a letter from the Marques and said that she wanted nothing more than to join him, that her joy at his return had filled her with longing and expectation, but that she feared to come to him so long as he was under Wellington's command.

He looked at the Marques, judging that such a heavy-set man would be slow on his feet.

The Marques de Casares el Grande y Melida Sadaba and his attendant priest galloped after him.

The Marques had his long sword tucked in Spanish fashion beneath his arm.

They would fight where the paths crossed at the graveyard's centre, where the Marques would try to turn Sharpe into the dazzling sun and run him through with the slim, shining blade.

Perhaps, he thought, the Marques was a man born to greatness who had never felt himself worthy.

The Marques did not just fight for Helene, nor just for his pride, but for the pride of all Spain that had been humbled by needing to make an Englishman its Generalissimo.

He saw the Marques come forward again, his heavy tread no clue to the speed that Sharpe had already seen, and Sharpe went forward too, his sword reaching, and the Marques stepped back.

It seemed to stick there and Sharpe wrenched his weapon, forcing it towards the Marques, hoping to break the man's slim blade, but the Marques turned, drew his sword away, and the cheers of the spectators were louder.

It rang against the slimmer blade, scraped, flashed sunlight into the spectators' eyes, and though the Marques went back on quick feet, he was having no trouble in avoiding the attacks.

The Marques thought he had the Rifleman beaten, but all he had done was to make the Rifleman fight.

He saw the alarm on Sharpe's face as he flailed his sword arm to stay upright and the Marques stamped his right foot forward, shouted in triumph, and the sword was piercing at Sharpe.

He brought up his left knee, shouted again as the Marques squealed, and punched the heavy guard forward so that the steel thumped into the Spaniard's breastbone, threw him backwards, and the next scything blow of the sword ripped the Marques' blade clean from his hand and Sharpe, the battle anger seething in him, brought the huge, heavy sword back for the killing blow.

The Marques, who yearned to have the toughness he saw in the Inquisitor, frowned.