But let us proceed in our examples of treachery two pretenders to the kingdom of Thrace—­[Rhescuporis and Cotys.  Tacitus, Annal., ii. 65]—­ were fallen into dispute about their title; the emperor hindered them from proceeding to blows:  but one of them, under colour of bringing things to a friendly issue by an interview, having invited his competitor to an entertainment in his own house, imprisoned and killed him.  Justice required that the Romans should have satisfaction for this offence; but there was a difficulty in obtaining it by ordinary ways; what, therefore, they could not do legitimately, without war and without danger, they resolved to do by treachery; and what they could not honestly do, they did profitably.  For which end, one Pomponius Flaccus was found to be a fit instrument.  This man, by dissembled words and assurances, having drawn the other into his toils, instead of the honour and favour he had promised him, sent him bound hand and foot to Rome.  Here one traitor betrayed another, contrary to common custom:  for they are full of mistrust, and ’tis hard to overreach them in their own art:  witness the sad experience we have lately had.—­[Montaigne here probably refers to the feigned reconciliation between Catherine de Medici and Henri, Duc de Guise, in 1588.]

Let who will be Pomponius Flaccus, and there are enough who would:  for my part, both my word and my faith are, like all the rest, parts of this common body:  their best effect is the public service; this I take for presupposed.  But should one command me to take charge of the courts of law and lawsuits, I should make answer, that I understood it not; or the place of a leader of pioneers, I would say, that I was called to a more honourable employment; so likewise, he that would employ me to lie, betray, and forswear myself, though not to assassinate or to poison, for some notable service, I should say, “If I have robbed or stolen anything from any man, send me rather to the galleys.”  For it is permissible in a man of honour to say, as the Lacedaemonians did,—­[Plutarch, Difference between a Flatterer and a Friend, c. 21.]—­having been defeated by Antipater, when just upon concluding an agreement:  “You may impose as heavy and ruinous taxes upon us as you please, but to command us to do shameful and dishonest things, you will lose your time, for it is to no purpose.”  Every one ought to make the same vow to himself that the kings of Egypt made their judges solemnly swear, that they would not do anything contrary to their consciences, though never so much commanded to it by themselves.  In such commissions there is evident mark of ignominy and condemnation; and he who gives it at the same time accuses you, and gives it, if you understand it right, for a burden and a punishment.  As much as the public affairs are bettered by your exploit, so much are your own the worse, and the better you behave yourself in it, ’tis so much the worse for yourself; and it will be no new thing, nor, peradventure, without some colour of justice, if the same person ruin you who set you on work.