Juhasz—The swine, your excellency
Count—Never mind that, Juhasz. . . . There is something else I want to talk with you about. . . . There are many complaints against you. Very many!
Juhasz—I know your excellency isn't satisfied with me.
Count—But my pigeons are satisfied, eh?
Juhasz—Is that what you are displeased about, sir?
Count—You feed them too much. They are so fat they won't fly any more. And when I ask for a pigeon for my luncheon I am informed that Mr. Juhasz won't permit one to be killed.
Juhasz—I'm so sorry for the poor soft little creatures. . . .
Count—And aren't you sorry for the poor soft little ox?
Juhasz—I don't know him personally, sir.
Count—Humph!
Juhasz—It doesn't seem right to me . . . to eat your personal acquaintances.
Count—[Significantly.] It does to me.
Juhasz—If that's the only complaint. . . .
Count—It isn't. There are many more. You and I will have to part company, Juhasz. I can't keep you here any longer. . . . Now every time I broach the subject . . . you look at me like that.
