Doctor in the House!

'Is the message sent, chamberlain?' asks Prince Rupprecht, his voice full of unusual zeal.
'Indeed, yes, sire', replies Chamberlain Fecklenburg. 'I am sure that Landgrave Choldwig will bestir his army and move immediately upon the enemy'.

'Did you include my pictures?' asks Rupprecht.

Fecklenburg considers this. 'All of those that were fit to include in our letter, sire', he replies finally.

'So, all of them', says the prince firmly.

'Yes, sire: all of those that could be identified as small drawings of pigs, and not those that looked like they had been drawn in crayon by a syphilitic and wildly drunk monkey that had never actually seen a pig and whose best monkey friend had lied about the claws'.

'Are there many of those sorts of monkeys?' asks Rupprecht, who likes to think of himself as a man with an enquiring scientific mind.

'I think that Landgrave Choldwig is likely to think so sir. But, moving on swiftly, I am sorry to disturb you again but I have here Doctor Hans Klenser'.
Accompanying the good doctor is his assistant. The prince blanches, remembering their previous encounter.
'Ah, uh, lovely to see you again madame', panics Rupprecht, searching for a suitable greeting that might avoid a repeat of the terrible social faux pas that accompanied their last meeting. 'You, ah, really, uh, haven't got any uglier since the last time that we met'.

Klenser chokes. Fecklenburg steps in straight away. 'Come now doctor, the prince hardly has time for this exchange of pleasantries. 'Why are you disturbing his Princely Personage'.

'Well, my lord - it's your gout' stutters Klenser recovering. 'I am sorry to disturb your evening', he continues, gesturing to the pair of oars. 'But you have been suffering from said affliction since I can remember. And as your Chief Medical Officer, I thought that it was time that you set an example of health and wellbeing for your subjects'.

'You're not going to saw it off, are you?' asks Rupprecht worriedly, pointing at his foot. 'Because I've only got two. I think'.
'Oh, no, no, sire. Not yet'.
'Not yet?' gulps the prince.

'No sire - not whilst we have such a long list of alternative treatments to attempt first'.

Fecklenberg intervenes with concern. 'But it's not a long list, Doctor Klenser. I have some acquaintence with medical matters, and I know that that list has one item on it, and it begins with 'L' and ends in 'H'!'
'Lunch?' asks the prince hopefully. Then he frowns. 'And if that doesn't cure me then you saw my foot off?'

'"Leech", my lord', replies Fecklenburg. 'It's "leech" that comprises the entirety of the medical profession's long list of treatments'.

'In my defence, it's a really long leech', says the doctor. 'It's more of a snake, really'. He opens a pouch to show the chamberlain.

'That is a snake', says Fecklenburg', stepping back in alarm. 'That is very much a snake. How on earth did you intend to prescribe it to our prince?'

'Well, usually, I recommend placing one under the tongue with some water until it dissolves'.

'And do your patients say that they feel better after that'

'It's difficult to tell' replies the physician. 'what with their tongues swelling up from the bites. But I can say confidently from looking at the jerking of their limbs that their mobility improves and that they stop complaining about their gout'.

'No, no, no!' replies the chamberlain firmly. 'There must be some other recommendation'.

Klenser thinks about this. 'Well, the prince could cut down on his drinking'.

Rupprecht frowns. 'Why would I do that? Only one of my feet has swollen up. I've got one left. I'd say that means I'm only drinking half of what I need to'.

'But your foot, my lord ...' Klenser tries continuing.

'It's fine. I'm used to it. It was like when I was bitten by that wild dog'.
Klenser nods. 'Bitten by a dog? Thank goodness, it could have been a small child'.
Rupprecht frowns. 'What? No, I could have fought off a small child. Anyway, my leg blew up, but I just ignored and it went away. Unlike my wife'.

'My lord, I must insist ...' begins Klenser.

'Be off!' cries the prince. 'On this issue, it's mind over matter: I don't mind, and you don't matter! So take yourself and your, ah, wife, away, and let me alone to contemplate serious matters of state'.

The physician is bundled out.

'Were you serious about considering significant matters of state, sire?' asks Fecklenburg.

'What? Oh no, I've got the whole evening in front of me. Now, chamberlain, help me with those oars: it would be a shame to waste them'.