An attack of dryness

“It seems, your Royal Highness,
You are suffering from dryness,”
The physic said with visible regret.
“The cure for this affliction,”
He went on, with more conviction,”
“Is – how can I put this? – getting wet.”

“Wet?” the King exploded,
Like a prize bull cruelly goaded.
Are you, sir, a complete psychopath?
You’re consumed by arid slyness,”
Carried on His Royal Highness.
“I sentence you to go and have a bath.”