by Unknown
Is it moist, dry, fat, or thin in waking or sleep?
Two, we listen for clear or turbid voice
When he speaks lucid or frenetic words.
Three, we ask for the ailment’s cause and length.
For how he eats, drinks, and eliminates.
Four, we scan the conduits8 by taking the pulse,
To learn how submerged or floating9 in and out.10
If we do not look, listen, ask, and take,
In this life his ailment will ne’er him forsake!”
Amid those two rows of military and civil officials standing in attendance, there was the royal physician who, when he heard these words, spoke up with great approbation. “What this monk says,” he said, “is most reasonable. Even an immortal examining a patient must look, listen, ask, and take—these very activities accord well with the efficacy of gods and sages.” Persuaded by this statement, the officials asked a palace attendant to send in the message: “The elder would like to exercise the principles of looking, listening, asking, and taking, before he could diagnose the illness and prescribe the medicine.”
Lying on his dragon bed, the king gasped out his answer: “Tell him to go away! We can’t bear to see an unfamiliar face!” The attendant walked out of the palace and said, “Monk, our king decrees you to leave, for he can’t bear to see an unfamiliar face.” “If he can’t do so,” replied Pilgrim, “I know that art of ‘Dangling a Thread to take the Pulse.’”
The various officials were secretly pleased, saying to themselves, “We have heard of this rare technique, but we have never seen it.” They said to the attendant, “Go and memorialize once more.” Again the attendant went inside the palace to say, “My lord, if that elder is not permitted to see your face, he can dangle a thread to take the pulse.” The king thought to himself, “We have been sick for three years but we’ve never tried this.” He therefore gave the reply, “Summon him in.” Immediately the attendant transmitted the message: “Our lord has given him the permission to take the pulse by dangling a thread. Summon Elder Sun quickly into the palace.”
Pilgrim at once started to ascend the treasure hall, only to be met by the scolding of Tang Monk. “Wretched ape!” he cried. “You’ve injured me!” Smiling, Pilgrim said, “Dear Master, I have put you in the limelight! How could you say that I’ve injured you?”
“Which person did you manage to cure,” shouted Tripitaka, “during these few years you’ve been following me? You don’t even know the nature of medicines, nor have you read any medical texts. How could you be so audacious as to rush into this big calamity?” Laughing, Pilgrim said, “Master, you didn’t know about this. I know a few herbal prescriptions which can cure even grave illnesses. All they care is that I heal him. But even if I kill him, all I’ll be guilty of is merely manslaughter because of medical incompetence. I won’t be executed. Why are you so worried? Relax! Relax! Take a seat and see if I’m any good at taking the pulse.”
The elder again said, “Have you ever seen what sort of sentences there are in the Candid Questions, The Classic of Medical Problems, the pharmacopoeias, and the Formulas of the Pulse?11 Do you know their proper gloss and exegesis? How could you babble like this about some dangling the thread to take the pulse?” Laughing, Pilgrim said, “I carry with me some threads of gold which you have never seen.”
He reached back with his hand and pulled off three strands of hair from his tail. Giving them a pinch, he cried, “Change!” They changed at once into three threads, each twenty-four feet long and thus corresponding to the Twenty-Four Solar Terms. Holding them in his hands, he said to the Tang Monk, “Aren’t these my golden threads?” The attending eunuch spoke up from the side, “Let the elders refrain from further conversation. Please enter the palace to examine the patient.” Taking leave of the Tang Monk, Pilgrim followed the attendant to walk inside the palace. Truly it was that
The mind’s secret prescription can heal a state;
Its wondrous formula will assure long life.
After he had gone inside, we do not know what sort of illness he was able to discern or what kind of medicines he prescribed. If you want to know the result, let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
SIXTY-NINE
At night the Lord of the Mind refines medicines;
At a banquet the king speaks of the perverse fiend.
We were telling you about the Great Sage Sun, who went with the palace attendant to the interior division of the royal palace. He stood still only after he had reached the door of the royal bedchamber. Then he told the attendant to take the three golden threads inside along with the instruction: “Ask one of the palace ladies or eunuchs to tie these three threads to the inch,1 the pass, and the foot sections of His Majesty’s left hand where the radial pulse are felt. Then pass the other ends of the threads out to me through the window shutters.”
The attendant followed his instruction. The king was asked to sit up on the dragon bed, while the three sections of his pulse were tied by the golden threads, and their other ends were then passed out to Pilgrim. Using the thumb and the index finger of his right hand to pick up one of the threads, Pilgrim first examined the pulse of the inch section; next, he used his middle finger and his thumb to pick up the second thread and examine the pulse of the pass section; finally, he used the thumb and his fourth finger to pick up the third thread and examine the pulse of the foot section.
Thereafter Pilgrim made his own breathing regular2 and proceeded to determine which of the Four Heteropathic Pneumatics,3 the Five Stases,4 the Seven External Images5 of the Pulse, the Eight Internal Images of the Pulse, and the Nine Pulse Indications6 were present. His pressure on the threads went from light to medium to heavy, and from heavy to medium to light,7 until he could clearly perceive whether the condition of the patient was repletion or depletion of energy and its cause. Then he made the request that the threads be untied from the king’s left wrist and be attached as before to the positions on his right wrist. Using now the fingers on his left hand, he then examined the pulse on the right wrist section by section. When he had completed his examination, he shook his body once and retrieved his hairs.
“Your Majesty,” he cried in a loud voice, “on your left wrist the pulse of your inch section feels strong and tense, the pulse of your pass section feels rough and languid, and the pulse of your foot section feels hollow and sunken. On your right wrist the pulse of your inch section feels floating and smooth, the pulse of your pass section feels retarded and hesistant, and the pulse of your foot section feels accelerated and firm. Now, when the pulse of your left inch section feels strong and tense, it indicates an internal energetic depletion with pain in the cardiac system of functions. When the pulse of your left pass section feels rough and languid, it indicates sweating that has led to numbness in the flesh. When the pulse of your left foot section feels hollow and sunken, it indicates a pink tinge to your urine and blood in your stool. When the pulse of the inch section on your right wrist feels floating and smooth, it indicates a congestion blocking the pneumatic energy circulation and leading to cessation of menses.8 When the pulse of your right pass section feels retarded and hesitant, it indicates a stasis of alimentary matter in the stomach system with retention of fluids. When the pulse of your right foot section feels accelerated and firm, it indicates discomfort caused by sensations of stuffiness and chills caused by energetic depletion. To sum up, your illness has been caused by fear and anxiety, and it may be the manifestation type of an illness called the ‘Paired Birds in Severance.’”
On hearing these words, the king was so delighted that he roused himself to answer loudly: “Your fingers have brought out the truth! Your fingers have brought out the truth! This is indeed our illness. Please go outside and prescribe us some medicines.”
Only then did the Great Sage walk slowly out of the palace, while the eunuchs who saw everything clearly from the side had already reported the result to the rest of the people. In a moment, Pilgrim walked out and he
was questioned by the Tang Monk. “I have examined the pulse,” said Pilgrim, “and now I have to prescribe some medicines for the illness.” Approaching him, the officials said, “Just now the divine monk said that this might be the manifestation type of an illness called the ‘Paired Birds in Severance.’ What does that mean?”
Smiling, Pilgrim said, “There are two birds flying together, one male and one female. Suddenly they are separated by violent wind and rain, so that the female cannot see the male, nor can the male see the female. The female longs for the male and the male longs for the female. Is this not the ‘Paired Birds in Severance’?”
On hearing this, all the officials cried in unison, “Bravo! Truly a divine monk! Truly a divine physician!” Then the imperial physician said, “You have already diagnosed the illness. What medicines would you use to cure it?” “No need to write a prescription,” said Pilgrim. “I’ll take all the medicines you can give me.”
“But according to a classic,” said the physician, “‘There are eight hundred and eight flavors of medicine, and a human may have four hundred and four kinds of illness.’ All of those illnesses cannot be found in a single person. How could all the medicines be used? Why do you want everything?”
Pilgrim replied, “The ancients said, ‘Medicines are not confined to prescriptions; they are to be used as one sees fit.’ That is why I must have all the medicines so that I can add or subtract as I see fit.” Not daring to argue any further, the physician went out of the gate of the court and sent those on duty in his bureau to go to all the pharmaceutical stores of the city and purchase three pounds of each kind of medicine, both raw and cooked, for Pilgrim to use. Pilgrim said, “This is not the place to prepare the proper drug. Take the medicines and the necessary drug-making utensils and send them all to the College of Interpreters. Let my brothers receive them for me.” The physician obeyed. Three pounds each of the eight hundred and eight flavors of medicine, along with grinders, rollers, drug mortars and pestles and the like, were sent to the college, where they were received item by item.
Pilgrim went back up the hall to ask his master to go with him to the college so that they might prepare the drug. As the elder rose from his seat, a decree was issued from the internal palace, requesting that the Master of the Law remain behind to spend the night at the Wenhua Palace Hall.9 After the king had taken the drug in the morning and had been restored to health, all of them would be rewarded and the rescript would be certified to permit their departure. Greatly alarmed, Tripitaka said, “O disciple! This means that he wants me kept here as security. If he is cured, he’ll send us off with delight. If he is not, my life will be finished. You’d better take extra caution and prepare a specially effective drug!” “No need to worry, Master,” said Pilgrim, smiling. “Enjoy yourself here. Old Monkey has the ability to bring healing to the state.”
Dear Great Sage! He took leave of Tripitaka and the various officials and went straight to the college. When Eight Rules met him, he smiled and said, “Elder Brother, now I know you!” “What do you know about me?” asked Pilgrim. “You must have realized,” said Eight Rules, “that this scripture-seeking enterprise will not succeed, but you don’t have any capital to start a business. When you see today how prosperous this region is, you are drawing up plans to open a pharmacy.”
“Stop babbling!” snapped Pilgrim. “When we have cured the king, we’ll be content to leave the court and journey once more. What are you talking about, opening up a pharmacy?” “If you are not,” said Eight Rules, “what do you want to do with all these medicines? There are eight hundred and eight different kinds, and you ordered three pounds for each variety. Altogether, there are two thousand four hundred and twenty-four pounds. How many pounds can you use just to cure one person? I wonder how many years it’ll take him to finish your prescription?”
“You think I really need that much?” said Pilgrim. “But those imperial physicians are all stupid and blind. I asked for such a huge amount of medicines only to prevent them from ever guessing what are the exact flavors I have used. It’ll be difficult for them to learn my ingenious prescription.”
As they were speaking, the two college officials came in, knelt before them, and said, “We invite the Holy Fathers, the divine monks, to dinner.” Pilgrim said, “You treated us rather casually in the morning. Now you kneel to inform us of a meal. Why?” Kowtowing again, the officials said, “When the Venerable Fathers arrived, these lowly officials had eyes but no pupils, and we did not recognize your esteemed countenances. Now we have heard that you are exercising your profound knowledge in the therapeutic arts to bring healing to the ruler of our state. If your lord is indeed cured, the Venerable Father will share in his empire, and we will all be your subjects. Proper etiquette, therefore, requires us to kneel to address you.”
On hearing this, Pilgrim ascended the main hall in delight and took the middle seat, while Eight Rules and Sha Monk sat on both sides of him. As they were served the vegetarian meal, Sha Monk asked, “Elder Brother, where is Master?” “He is being kept by the king as security,” replied Pilgrim, laughing. “Only after the king has been cured will he be thanked and permitted to leave.” “Does he get to enjoy anything?” asked Sha Monk again. Pilgrim said, “How could anyone in the company of the king be without enjoyment? When I left, Master already had three Senior Secretaries hovering about him as they proceeded toward the Wenhua Palace Hall.” “Listening to what you’ve said,” said Eight Rules, “I think Master is certainly more exalted than we are. He has the company of three Senior Secretaries, while we are being served by only two college officials. But never mind, let old Hog enjoy a full meal!” The three brothers thus ate to their hearts’ content.
It was getting late, and Pilgrim said to the officials, “Take away the bowls and dishes, and bring us plenty of oil and candles. We must wait until late at night before we can prepare the drug.” The officials indeed brought in a great deal of oil and candles before they retired. By midnight, human traffic had ceased and the whole place was quiet. Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, what kind of drug do you want to prepare? Let’s do it now, for I’m getting drowsy.” “Bring me an ounce of dahuang,”10 said Pilgrim, “and grind that into powder.”
Sha Monk spoke up: “Dahuang is bitter in flavor; its disposition is cold and nonpoisonous. Its nature is sinking and not rising, and its function concerns movement and not fortification. It can take away various kinds of pent-up feelings and unclog congestion; it can conquer chaos and bring about peace. Hence its name is ‘General,’ for it is a laxative. I fear, however, that prolonged illness has weakened the person, and perhaps you should not use it.”
Smiling, Pilgrim said, “Worthy Brother, you don’t realize that this medicine will loosen phlegm and facilitate respiration; it will also sweep out the chill and heat congealed in one’s stomach. Don’t mind me. You go also and fetch me an ounce of badou.11 Shell it and strip away the membranes. Pound away also the oil, and then grind it to powder.”
“The flavour of badou,” said Eight Rules, “is slightly acrid; its nature is hot and poisonous. Able to pare down the hard and the accumulated, it will therefore sweep out the submerged chills of one’s internal cavities. Able to bore through clottings and impediments, it will therefore facilitate the paths of water and grain. This is a warrior who can break down doors and passes, and it should be used lightly.”
“Worthy Brother,” said Pilgrim, “you, too, don’t realize that this medicine can break up congestion and drain the intestines. It can also take care of swellings at the heart and dropsy in the abdomen. Prepare it quickly, for I still must use an auxiliary flavor to lend the medicines further assistance.” After the two of them had ground the medicines into powder, they said, “Elder Brother, what other flavors will you use?” “None,” replied Pilgrim.
Eight Rules said, “There are eight hundred and eight flavors, each of which you have three pounds, but you use only these two ounces. You are truly playing tricks on someone!” Picking
up a flowered porcelain flask, Pilgrim said, “Worthy Brother, don’t talk so much. Take this flask and scrape me half a flask of soot from the bottom of the frying pan.” “What do you want it for?” asked Eight Rules. “For the drug,” replied Pilgrim. “This little brother,” said Sha Monk, “has never seen the use of soot for a drug.”
Pilgrim said, “The proper name for this kind of soot is ‘Hundred-Grass Frost,’ and you have no idea that it can soothe a hundred ailments.” Our Idiot indeed brought him half a flask of the soot, which was also ground into powder. Then Pilgrim gave him the flask once more and said, “Go and fetch me half a flask of urine from our horse.” “What for?” asked Eight Rules. “I want it to make some pills,” replied Pilgrim.
Laughing, Sha Monk said, “Elder Brother, this is no joking matter! Horse urine is both pungent and stinky. How could you put that into the medicines? I have seen pills made from vinegar, aged rice soups, clarified honey, or pure water, but never from horse urine. That stuff is so foul and pungent, the moment a person with a weakened stomach smells it, he will vomit. If you feed him further with badou and dahuang, he’ll be throwing up on top and purging down below. You think that’s funny?”
“But you don’t realize,” said Pilgrim, “that our horse is no mortal horse of this world. Remember he was originally a dragon from the Western Ocean. If he is willing to urinate, it will cure any kind of disease a human may have when it is ingested. The only problem is that you can’t get it in a hurry.” On hearing this, Eight Rules ran out to the stable, where he found the horse lying prone on the ground and asleep. A few swift kicks by our Idiot, however, roused him immediately, whereupon our Idiot positioned the flask below his abdomen and waited for a long time. When he saw that the horse did not urinate at all, he ran back and said to Pilgrim, “O Elder Brother, let’s not try to heal the king. Go quickly to heal the horse first. That outcast has dried up! He hasn’t even pissed a drop!” “I’ll go with you,” said Pilgrim, smiling. Sha Monk said, “I, too, will go and take a look.”