‘Oh come, Jack, for all love! You are an officer and I have known you lie times without number, like Ulysses. I have seen you hang out flags stating that you were a Dutchman, a French merchant, a Spanish man-of-war - that you were a friend, an ally - anything to deceive. Why, the earthly paradise would soon be with us, if government, monarchical or republican, had but to give a man a commission to preserve him from lying - from pride, envy, sloth, guile, avarice, ire and incontinence.’
Jack’s face, which had darkened at the word lie, cleared at that of incontinence. ‘Oh,’ cried he, ‘ those are just ruses deguerre, and perfectly legitimate: they are not direct lies like saying it is peace when you know damned well it is war. That would be like approaching an enemy under false colours, which is perfectly proper, and then firing before hauling them down and hoisting your own at the last moment, which is profoundly dishonourable, the act of a mere pirate, and one for which any man can be hanged. Perhaps its is a distinction too nice for a civilian, but I do assure you it is perfectly clear to sailors…’
- The Far Side of the World, Patrick O’Brian, pp.316-7 (Harper, 2003)The tricky and subtle art of lying in the British navy. Poor Stephen remains a landlubber to his core. I really don’t know how Jack puts up with him.
See? It’s PROFOUNDLY DISHONOURABLE to fire under false colours.
HORNBLOWER.
HORNBLOWER.
