The Magnificent Showboats by Jack Vance

young woman seemed a trifle puzzled and Zamp asked himself, was it possible that she had not noticed him?
    “This may well be. You are Apollon Zamp?”
    “I claim that dubious distinction, indeed. What of yourself?”
    “I wish to become a member of your troupe.”
    “Aha! Please be seated. Will you take a glass of wine?”
    “Nothing, thank you.” The young woman seated herself in the chair which Zamp brought forward. “You are naturally wondering as to my dramatic capabilities. They are not large, but on the other hand I demand no large salary.”
    “I see,” said Zamp. “What in fact are these capabilities?”
    “Well, I can no doubt act parts; I play a minor guitar with some facility, and I can give chess demonstrations.”
    “These are special talents, to be sure,” said Zamp. “Can you perform agile dances?”
    “This is a skill in which I have not been trained,” said the young woman rather haughtily.
    “Hmm,” said Zamp. “Do you know the tragic drama Evulsifer ?”
    “I fear not.”
    “The nude ghost of Princess Maude walks the parapets of Castle Doun during the second act. You might adequately command the role.”
    “The nudity is of course simulated?”
    “Ghostliness is suggested by the use of a gossamer curtain. Nudity, however, is better portrayed by actuality than by simulation. Such has been our experience.”
    The young woman looked out the casements and across the water. Zamp studied her profile, which he found exquisite. “Ah well,” she muttered, more to herself than Zamp, “what difference does it make?”
    Zamp said: “You know my name, but you still have not enlightened me as to your own.”
    “You may address me as —” she hesitated and frowned. “It is a difficult matter to reconcile formality with convenience.”
    “Perhaps you could simply tell me your name.”
    “It is Damsel Tatwiga Berjadre Ilkin al Marilszippor cam Zatofoy dal Tossfleur cam Ysandra dal Attikonitsa al Blanche-Aster Wittendore.”
    “The pedigree is imposing,” said Zamp. “I will call you Damsel Blanche-Aster. And where is your home-place?”
    “My birthplace is Castle Zatofoy in the land of Wyst.”
    Zamp pursed his lips. “These places are not known to me.”
    “They are remote, as are the circumstances of my life, and I prefer not to discuss them.”
    “As you wish,” said Zamp. “Now — if you are to join the troupe — you must adopt a possibly novel point of view. We function as a unit; we have no place aboard for acrimonious or abrasive personalities, diffidence, languor or excessive temperament. Prudence, discretion, restraint are indispensable qualities as we sail from town to town, inasmuch as each is different from the next and we can risk offending no one. For instance, at Port Whant you may wear no yellow, inasmuch as this will be regarded as receptivity to sexual proposals.”
    Damsel Blanche-Aster gave him a cold glance. “I am sure that such vulgar episodes are uncommon.”
    Zamp gave a casual laugh. “Not altogether. In fact, after a month or so, you will drop the words ‘common’ and ‘uncommon’ from your vocabulary.”
    Damsel Blanche-Aster sat looking off across the cabin and out the stern casements, and it seemed to Zamp that she was on the verge of rising to her feet and departing the ship. But she sighed and made some sort of internal adjustment, and Zamp breathed easier.
    “As for your compensation,” said Zamp, “I can offer you the wage of a part-player, which will be augmented as you demonstrate new skills. Aboard this ship I emphasize versatility, which I find to be stimulating for everyone.”
    Damsel Blanche-Aster gave an indifferent shrug. “As for my quarters, I prefer a cabin similar to this, with adjacent bathing facilities.”
    Zamp stared in wonder. “My dear young lady, no such similar cabin exists!” He essayed a facetious gallantry, which he immediately knew to be a mistake. “Unless of course you care to share this cabin with me.”