The King of England painfully climbed the two hundred and eight steps which led to Merlyn's tower room, and knocked on the door. The magician was inside, with Archimedes sitting on the back of his chair, busily trying to find the square root of minus one. He had forgotten how to do it.
"Merlyn," said the King, panting, "I want to talk to you."
He closed the book with a bang, leaped to his feet, seized his wand of lignum vitae, and rushed at Arthur as if he were trying to shoo away a stray chicken.
"Go away!" he shouted. "What are you doing here? What do you mean by it? Aren't you the King of England? Go away and send for me! Get out of my room! I never heard of such a thing! Go away at once and send for me!"
"But I am here."
"No, you're not," retorted the old man resourcefully. And he pushed the King out of the door, slamming it in his face.
"Well!" said Arthur, and he went off sadly down the two hundred and eight stairs.