SAVOYARD. Well, let me see. As you dont like English people, I dont
know that youll get on with Trotter, because hes thoroughly English:
never happy except when hes in Paris, and speaks French so
unnecessarily well that everybody there spots him as an Englishman the
moment he opens his mouth. Very witty and all that. Pretends to turn
up his nose at the theatre and says people make too much fuss about
art [the Count is extremely indignant]. But thats only his modesty,
because art is his own line, you understand. Mind you dont chaff him
about Aristotle.
THE COUNT. Why should I chaff him about Aristotle?
SAVOYARD. Well, I dont know; but its one of the recognized ways of
chaffing him. However, youll get on with him all right: hes a man of
the world and a man of sense. The one youll have to be careful about
is Vaughan.
THE COUNT. In what way, may I ask?
SAVOYARD. Well, Vaughan has no sense of humor; and if you joke with
him he'll think youre insulting him on purpose. Mind: it's not that
he doesnt see a joke: he does; and it hurts him. A comedy scene
makes him sore all over: he goes away black and blue, and pitches
into the play for all hes worth.
THE COUNT. But surely that is a very serious defect in a man of his
profession?
SAVOYARD. Yes it is, and no mistake. But Vaughan is honest, and dont
care a brass farthing what he says, or whether it pleases anybody or
not; and you must have one man of that sort to say the things that
nobody else will say.
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