No--if he does, he's taken up with a Letter Scratched, and sent to the Bastile, and if you ask a reason for it, all they say to you is--de parlour oi. Why now here we can each talk of folks at Helm and of Taxes, and know as much of the matter as any of un. (Sideboard: That's the Privilege of an Englishman, Roger.) And then a Sarvant there has no Vails--a Butler's place is nothing there, a poor Gentleman may come and dine there, and you're oblig'd to be as civil to him, as if he had money in his Pocket, and was oblig'd to give you more than his dinner is worth, as they do in England. I had rather live with an honest Citizen, who brings his friend home from change to his own dinner, mayhap a Leg of Mutton and a Pudding, and if you fix yourself well at the Door, you are sure to touch un for a Hog. (Sideboard: A poor servant had better be a country curate than that.) I am sure I hated them all the time I was there and their lingo and all. Such outlandish Names they have for things--what do you think they call a Horse? Cheval. And Beef, now what do you think they call Beef?

Roger Monologue from The Englishman from Paris

Rehearse Roger's monologue