“Flee not from before me! I am indeed thine own, very own husband. Changed as I am, I am yet indeed the very self-same. Yet a few days I will endeavour to endure my misery, and then I will lay me down and die.”
When his neighbours and friends found that he came out of his house no more, nor invited them to him, nor gave entertainments more, they began to inquire what ailed him; but he, without letting any of them enter, only answered them from within, “Woe is me! woe is me!”
Now there was in that neighbourhood a Lama[6], living in contemplation in a tirtha[7] on the river bank. “I will call in the same,” thought the man, “and take his blessing ere I die.” So he sent to the tirtha and called the Lama.
When the Lama came, the man bowed himself and asked his blessing, but would by no means look up, lest he should see his knotted nose. Then said the Lama, “Let me see what hath befallen thee; show it me.” But he answered, “It is impossible to show it!”
Then the Lama said again, “Let me see it; showing it will not harm thee.” But when he looked up and let him see his knotted nose, the sight was so frightful that a shudder seized the Lama, and he ran away for very horror.” However, the man called after him and entreated him to come back, offering him rich presents; and when he had prevailed on him to sit down again, he told him the whole story of what had befallen him.
To his question, whether he could find any remedy, the Lama made answer that he knew none; but, remembering his rich presents, he thought better to turn the matter over in case any useful thought should present itself to his mind, and said he would consult his books.
“Till to-morrow I will wait, then, to hear if thy books have any remedy; and if not, then will I die.”
The next morning the Lama came again. “I have found one remedy,” he said, “but there is only one. The hammer and bag of which your brother is possessed could loose the knots; there is nothing else.”
How elated so ever he had been to hear that a remedy had been found, by so much cast down was he when he learnt that he would have to send and ask the assistance of his brother.
“After all that I have said to him, I could never do this thing,” he said mournfully, “nor would he hear me.” But his wife would not leave any chance of remedying the evil untried; so she went herself to the elder brother and asked for the loan of the sack and hammer.