This time also she cried out as before.
He next went to a doctor, who said, “Who are you?”
“A doctor’s son.”
“What is your name?”
“Ātreya.”
The king’s daughter fell ill with a disease of the brain, and the doctor could of himself do nothing to cure it. As he sat one day absorbed in thought on that account, Kuśa said to him, “Master, why are you so pensive?”
“The king’s daughter is attacked by a disease of the brain, and I can do nothing to cure it.”
“I will go and cure her.”
So Kuśa went to visit her. When she saw him she thought, “Where can this demon have come from?” But she reflected that if she said that aloud he would not cure her, so she determined not to do so till he had cured her. When she became well she cried out, “Piśācha! Piśācha!” Whereupon he fled.
He betook himself to the ministers, who said, “Who are you?”