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“I am a Prince,” he replied, being rather dense. “It is the function of a Prince—value A—to kill monsters—value B—for the purpose of establishing order—value C—and maintaining a steady supply of maidens—value D. If one inserts the derivative of value A (Prince) into the equation y equals BC plus CD squared, and sets it equal to zero, giving the apex of the parabola, namely, the point of intersection between A (Prince) and B (Monster), one determines value E—a stable kingdom. It is all very complicated, and if you have a chart handy I can graph it for you.”
“Ah, my lad,” I said, after he had quite spoiled one of my topographical charts with scribbling equations, “but Beast is not a monster. He does not gobble up maidens like cucumber sandwiches. He keeps to himself like any civilized Beast.”
“But he is quite ugly?” the Prince insisted.
“I think he is a fine fellow, but some might consider him homely, yes.”
“And he smells foul?”
“Well, I cannot argue with you there—one ought not to stand down-wind!”
“And he does have a terrible jaw of bone, and great tall horns?”
“Yes, yes, you’ve got Beast, all right!”
“Then he is a monster!” the Prince crowed, “and I must slay him at once. The Formula works!”
“Your Formula must result in a great deal of fighting,” I mused.
“Oh, yes, when applied correctly mighty and noble battles result! Of course I always win—the value of Prince X is a constant. It cannot be lesser than that of Monster Y—this is the Moral Superiority Hypothesis made famous five hundred years ago by my ancestor Ethelred, the Mathematician-King. We have never seen his equal, in all these centuries.”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
“If that is all, I believe I must be about my Proof,” said the Prince, brandishing his sword experimentally. “That is what we call a slaying,” he explained, giving the blade a great swing over his head. “For each time a monster is
killed, the Hypothesis is Proven.”
“How jolly of you to give it such a… civilized name. But I cannot allow it.”
“But… but…” he spluttered, indignant, “the Formula!”
“Nevertheless. This is my kingdom and no violence may come to anyone within my borders so long as I can help it. That, at least, you should understand. Here, my word is law.”
“Oh, yes.” He nodded. “The Universal Monarchic Algorithm is most central to the Theorem.”
“Theorem?”
“Of Proper Conduct.”
“Ah.”
“I did my thesis on the Monarchic Algorithm,” the young man huffed defensively. “If you will not allow violence within your borders—a moment, while I make some calculations”—he scribbled on my beautiful charts again—“I shall call him out—if he is a proper monster he will not refuse a challenge from a nobleman.”
I sighed, giving in to the inevitable. “No, that he will not.”
“Very well, then!” The Prince marched off humming a mnemonic tune as he went.
“WELL, MY FINE BOY, LET ME TELL YOU! THAT BOY tried to drop down from the crags onto Beast at the dueling ground—most unsporting—and got his limbs all tangled in poor Beast’s antlers. It took us weeks to remove them—and such unsavory work it was. Perhaps you will show more sense. Now then,” the Marsh King said, peering at him over abalone spectacles, “do you know any Formulae or Theorems?”
The Prince shook his head.
“Thank the wide-brimmed hat of heaven for that. Perhaps that style of government has gone out of fashion. Yet I fear you will still insist on disturbing Beast at this uncivilized hour.”
“I must.”
“And why? We have already established through the recitation of a most agreeable secondary Discourse that Beast is not a monster.” The Marsh King wrinkled his greenish nose in a puzzled way.
“I know.” Leander sighed. “But it cannot be avoided. And I have a question to ask of you before I reveal my purpose.”
