Hawthorne has nothing in common with the schemer liaisons he made notorious, but admits to anger at being `outed' by the American including press. We all know about life imitating art and soap operas, but last week the actor Nigel Hawthorne's life started imitating a sitcom.

For like the character he played in Yes, Minister -- that suave king of control freaks, Sir Humphrey Appleby -- he became Sir Nigel Hawthorne. Within minutes of meeting him I could tell that he had nothing in common with Sir Humphrey or the self-adoring luvvie stereotype we love to loathe. I'm sorry to say it, but this man is a disgrace to the acting profession -- he's utterly devoid of the egotism, affectation and self-importance of the celebrity thespian.

I went to his country home in Hertfordshire expecting to meet a colourful character who combined the comic cruelty of an old showbiz queen with the charming caddishness of Sir Humphrey. What I found was a man with the good manners, self-deprecation and quiet, modest charm of the true aristocrat. Sir Nigel is so nice that when one of his dogs began a fit of ferocious barking he tried to quiet the beast by saying in a soft voice, "Okay. I think you have had your say."

Sitting by the fireside, surrounded by his three dogs, he says that he's very honoured by his knighthood. He may say that he is truly honoured to have this award, but the shadow of sadness that suddenly appears across his face suggests that he is not happy. He tells me it would all have meant so much more to him had his parents been alive to see him become a Sir. "My father would have been tickled pink. Honours meant so much to him. And my mother would have said to everybody on the bus, `My son has been knighted!'"

It is cruel that the man who won the admiration and affection of millions of Yes, Minister fans around the world never managed to gain that approval from the two people who mattered most: his mother and father. When they died in the 1960s (actually, his mother died in the early 80's, and did know of his success in Yes, Minister. Ed.) Hawthorne was still a penniless actor who had come from his home in South Africa to London to find work, and although he has played all sorts of parts -- from the chief villain in Sylvester Stallone's Demolition Man to a mad monarch in Alan Bennett's The Madness of King George -- he will always be remembered as Sir Humphrey.

Unlike a lot of actors, he doesn't mind being associated with a character he played more than a decade ago. On the contrary, he's pleasantly surprised. "I'm always astonished that people still remember that show. In America people come up to me and say, `Hi, Sir Humph!' I can walk down Whitehall today and every policeman on the beat will say good morning to me."

Success came to Hawthorne late in life: was that why he seemed such a sensible, down-to-earth sort of chap? At this he smiles. "Well, there were years when I wondered why I was trying to become an actor and if I should give it up. I was terribly poor. So when I started to be successful, I gave this great sigh of relief." With the success of Yes, Minister, Hawthorne suddenly found himself mixing with the big political figures of the Thatcher era.

Had playing Sir Humphrey prepared him for dealing with politicians? "I once turned up for a meeting with Mrs Thatcher and I wasn't sure how to greet her. So I gave her two pecks on the cheek and she didn't seem to vomit. I always found her to be very warm and friendly, but all she ever wanted to talk about was politics. I remember her saying that Bill Clinton was `going to be an excellent man'."

Sir Nigel tells me that he was surprised that politicians seemed to think he really was Sir Humphrey -- to the point of being intimidated by his presence.

Not a social gadfly, his home is a large country cottage with a tennis court and a gym that once belonged to a Pet Shop Boy. Here he lives with his companion of 21 years, Trevor Bentham. And though he says: "Of course I would have liked to have been married and had children," he is not disappointed. "This is my life and I'm extremely happy."

With the exception of Sylvester Stallone, whom he found "rude and arrogant", Sir Nigel hasn't a bad word to say about his fellow actors. "Clint Eastwood was a most delightful man to work with. Jennifer Aniston was a lovely girl, very unspoilt. Steven Spielberg was fantastic, a genius." At times he talks about Hollywood celebrities like a star-struck teenager. "I remember attending the Oscar ceremony. I was so nervous. Everywhere you looked there were famous faces. I was introduced to Tom Hanks and he said, `Hey, I just met Nigel Hawthorne!' It was thrilling."

How does a night with the stars compare to lunch with the Queen at Buckingham Palace? "That was a nerve-wracking event, too. I remember standing in the reception room talking to Steve Davis and some other people when suddenly the door opened and in came the corgis, followed by the Queen. "We started having a conversation with her. But Davis felt left out and the Queen was in mid-sentence when he pointed at one of the corgis and said, `Is that the spoilt one?' "The Queen was very annoyed by this - `What do you mean by spoilt?' -- and Davis said, `You know, overfed.' At this she really got cross and replied, `Corgis have small legs and they all look like that!' Then she turned away and charged off."

Sir Nigel loves his work, but does not allow it to affect his private life. "I'm just an actor. That's my job. The moment my work finishes, I cut off and come straight home". He has never used his celebrity status to further causes such as gay rights. He'd been quite happy to live a quiet life with Trevor before being outed by the American press after the success of The Madness of King George. How did that make him feel? "Extremely angry. I felt it was a terrible intrusion on my privacy."

Before then, had he been encouraged by other gay actors to come out? "Ian McKellan always said I should come out. But why? I make my living playing heterosexuals. I didn't want to screw up my life. I didn't want to limit myself to playing gays."

Sir Nigel is a homosexual of the old school, the kind that believed it was better to live in the closet than turn your sexuality into a crusade. "I feel that too much fuss is made about being gay. I've been a homosexual all my life. My partner and I don't want to stand up and say we're gay, because we think that's wrong. The best way to get people to accept you is to move about the community and show them there's nothing to be afraid of."