by Unknown
When Pilgrim heard these words, he was filled with delight, so much so that he drank in two gulps that huge goblet of wine. Smiling broadly, he said to the king, “So, that was the cause of Your Majesty’s fear and anxiety. Now you’ve met old Monkey, and you are lucky to be cured. But do you want the Golden Sage Palace returned to your kingdom?” Shedding tears again, the king replied, “There’s not a day or a night that we do not yearn for her presence, but no one is able to arrest the monster-spirit for us. How could I not want her return?” “Let old Monkey go and bring that perverse fiend to submission,” said Pilgrim. “How about it?” The king immediately went to his knees and said, “If you can rescue our queen, we are willing to lead all the residents of this palace and all my consorts out to the city to live as common people. We shall present our entire kingdom to you and let you be the ruler.”
When Eight Rules on the side saw the king speak and act in this manner, he could not refrain from laughing uproariously. “This king has lost his sense of propriety!” he cried. “How could he refuse his kingdom just for the sake of his wife and kneel to a monk?” Hurrying forward to raise the king, Pilgrim said, “Your Majesty, since he has abducted the Golden Sage Palace, has that monster-spirit ever returned?” “After he took away the Golden Sage Palace during the fifth month year before last,” replied the king, “he returned during the tenth month to demand two palace maidens to serve our queen. We immediately gave him what he requested. Last year, in the third month, he came to ask for two more palace maidens; by the seventh, he took away two more; and in the second month of this year, he came again for still two more. We do not know when he will come to make his demand anew.” “After he has come so many times,” said Pilgrim, “aren’t you afraid of him?”
The king said, “His many visits have frightened us indeed, and, moreover, we fear that he may even harm us further. In the fourth month of last year, we ordered the engineers to build us a Fiend Shelter. Whenever we hear the sound of the wind and know that he’s coming, we will hide in the shelter with our two consorts and nine concubines.”
“If your Majesty is willing,” said Pilgrim, “please take old Monkey to have a look at the Fiend Shelter. How about it?” Using his left hand to take hold of Pilgrim, the king left the banquet as all the officials rose to their feet. “Elder Brother,” said Zhu Eight Rules, “you are so unreasonable! All this imperial wine and you refuse to drink it. You have to break up the nice party! Why must you go look at this shelter?” On hearing this, the king realized that Eight Rules’s only interest was his mouth. He at once ordered the stewards to carry two tables of vegetarian food and wine to the shelter and wait there for them. Only then did Idiot stop his complaints and say to his master and Sha Monk, laughing, “Let’s change to another banquet!”
Led by a row of civil and military officials, the king went with Pilgrim through the palace to the rear imperial garden, but there was not a single building in sight. “Where’s the Fiend Shelter?” asked Pilgrim. Hardly had he finished speaking when two eunuchs, gripping two red lacquered poles, pried loose from the ground a huge slab of stone. The king said, “That is the shelter. It’s more than twenty feet deep down there, with nine dug-out chambers. Placed in there are four huge cisterns filled with clear oil, which is used for keeping the lamps lit night and day. When we hear the sound of the wind and go in there to hide, people outside will close up the hole with the stone slab.” Pilgrim chuckled and said, “That monster-spirit obviously does not wish to harm you. If he does, you think you can hide from him down there?”
He had not quite finished his sentence when a powerful gust of wind roared in from due south, spraying dirt and dust into the air. Those officials became so frightened that they all protested in unison, “This monk has such an ill-luck mouth! He speaks of the monster-spirit, and at once the monster-spirit shows up!” Abandoning Pilgrim, the terrified monarch at once crawled into the hole in the ground, followed by the Tang Monk and all the other officials.
Eight Rules and Sha Monk, too, wanted to hide, but they were pulled back by Pilgrim’s two hands. “Brothers,” he said, “don’t be afraid. Let’s you and I try to discover what kind of monster-spirit this is.” “You must be jesting!” said Eight Rules. “Why do you want to make such a discovery? The officials have hidden themselves, Master has gone out of sight, and the king has stepped aside. Why don’t we just leave? Who cares about his pedigree!” Our Idiot twisted left and right, but he could not struggle free of Pilgrim’s firm grip. After some time, there emerged in midair a monster-spirit. Look how he appears!
A nine-foot long body, savage and fierce;
A pair of round eyes flashing like gold lamps.
Two large forked ears like protruding fans,
And four sharp teeth like steel nails sticking up.
Red hair flanked his head, his eyebrows sprouted flames.
A bottle-nose dangled with nostrils flaring.
A few strands of beard like thick scarlet threads;
His cheekbones were rugged, his face was green.
Two arms of red veins, two indigo hands,
And ten pointed claws holding high a lance.
A leopard-skin kilt wrapped around his waist:
A ghost with tousled hair and naked feet!
When he saw the monster, Pilgrim asked, “Sha Monk, do you recognize him?” “I haven’t made his acquaintance,” replied Sha Monk. “How could I recognize him?” Pilgrim asked again, “Eight Rules, do you recognize him?” “I have never had tea or wine with him,” replied Eight Rules, “nor am I a friend or neighbor of his. How could I recognize him?” Pilgrim said, “He rather looks like the demon gatekeeper with golden pupils and shriveled face under the command of Equal to Heaven, the Eastern Mountain.” “No! No!” said Eight Rules. “How do you know that?” asked Pilgrim.
“A demon,” said Eight Rules, “is a spirit of darkness, and it will make its appearance only late in the day, say, between the hour of Monkey and that of the Boar.17 Right now it’s still noon. Which demon would dare come out? Even if he’s a demon, he can’t mount the clouds. And if he knows how to use the wind, he will only be able to summon a little whirlwind, not a violent wind like this. Perhaps he is the very Jupiter’s Rival.”
“Dear Idiot!” said Pilgrim, chuckling. “You have a point there! You two stand guard here, and let old Monkey go ask for his name. Then we can rescue the Golden Sage Palace for the king.” “If you want to go, go,” said Eight Rules, “but don’t reveal that we are here.” Without further reply, Pilgrim mounted the auspicious luminosity to leap into the air. Ah! So it is that
To secure a state one must first cure the king’s disease;
To safeguard the Way one must purge the evil-loving heart.
We do not know, as he rises into the air, whether he will win or lose, or how he manages to capture the fiend and rescue the Golden Sage Palace. Let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
SEVENTY
The monstrous demon’s treasures release smoke, sand, and fire;
Wukong by stratagem steals the purple-gold bells.
We were telling you about that Pilgrim Sun, who, arousing his divine might and gripping his iron rod, trod on the auspicious luminosity to rise into the air. Facing the fiend, he shouted, “Where did you come from, perverse demon? Where do you think you’re going to perpetrate your lawlessness?” The fiendish creature replied in a loud voice, “I am none other than the vanguard under the command of the Great King Jupiter’s Rival, the master of the Cave of Mythic Beast at Unicorn Mountain. By the order of the great king, I have come here to fetch two palace maidens for the service of Lady Golden Sage. Who are you that you dare question me?” “I’m Sun Wukong, the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven,” said Pilgrim. “I am passing through this kingdom because I am giving protection to the Tang Monk from the Land of the East, who is on his way to worship Buddha in the Western Heaven. When I learned how you bunch of perverse demons were making a mockery of the ruler here, I resolved to exe
rcise my talents to heal the state and drive out the bogies. I was just wondering where to look for you when you arrived to give up your life.”
Though he heard these words, that fiend did not know any better than to pick up the lance to stab at Pilgrim. Pilgrim met him head-on with upraised iron rod, and a marvelous battle began in midair.
The rod’s a dragon hall’s sea-ruling treasure;
The lance is but iron refined by man.
How could mortal arms compare with one divine,
A tiny stroke of which would dispel your soul?
The Great Sage is first a Great Monad god;
The monster’s only a demon accursed.
How could a ghost approach a righteous man?
One righteous mite would smite all things perverse.
That one uses wind and sprays dirt to scare the king;
This one treads the fog and clouds to hide the sun and moon.
They assume fighting postures to try to win.
Which weakling would dare claim a hero’s name?
In the end the Great Sage’s the stronger man:
Pingpang cracks the rod and the lance does snap.
As his lance was broken in two by one blow of Pilgrim’s iron rod, the terrified monster-spirit changed the direction of his wind and fled for his life toward the west.
Deciding not to give chase for the moment, Pilgrim dropped from the clouds and went up to the Fiend Shelter. “Master,” he cried, “please ask His Majesty to come out. The fiendish creature’s gone.” The Tang Monk used his hands to support the king as both of them climbed out of the hole. The entire sky had cleared up and there was not the slightest appearance of a fiend anywhere. The king walked up to one of the banquet tables, picked up the wine pot himself, and filled a golden goblet to present to Pilgrim, saying, “Divine monk, just a little thanks!” The Pilgrim took the goblet in his hand, but before he could make his reply, an official rushed in from outside the court to say, “There’s a fire at the west gate of the capital!”
On hearing this, Pilgrim flung the wine-filled goblet into the air. When it fell with a clang to the ground, the startled king bowed quickly and said, “Divine monk, please forgive me! Please forgive me! It was indeed our fault! Proper etiquette requires that you ascend the main hall to receive our thanks. It was because the wine was placed conveniently here that I presented it to you. You threw the cup away. Are you offended?” “No! No!” replied Pilgrim, laughing. “You have got it all wrong!”
Just as they were speaking, another official came in to report: “What a marvelous rain! Just now a fire broke out at the west gate, but a great shower extinguished it. The streets are filled with water that smells like wine!” “Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, still laughing, “when you saw me throwing away the cup, you thought I was offended. But actually, I was not. That fiend fled toward the west in defeat; because I did not give chase, he started a fire. That goblet of wine was what I used to extinguish the fiendish fire and save the families located in the western part of the capital. That was all!”
More than ever filled with delight and respect, the king invited Tripitaka and his three disciples to return to the treasure hall, where he was ready to abdicate his throne and hand it over to the priests. “Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, smiling, “that monster-spirit just now claimed that he was a vanguard in the command of Jupiter’s Rival, sent here to demand two more palace maidens. Since he was defeated, he would certainly flee to his master to report, and his master would certainly want to come strive with me. I fear that when he brings his troops here, it will be difficult to prevent them from frightening the populace and alarming Your Majesty. I’d like to meet him in midair instead and capture him right there, but I don’t know which is the proper direction. What’s the distance between here and his mountain cave?”
The king said, “We did send some military scouts to go there once to make investigation. The round trip took some fifty days, as the cave was about three thousand miles due south of here.” On hearing this, Pilgrim said, “Eight Rules, Sha Monk, stand guard here. Old Monkey will make a trip there.” Tugging at him, the king said, “Divine monk, please wait for another day. Let us prepare some dried and baked goods for you, give you some travel money, and select a speedy horse for you. Then you may go.” With a laugh, Pilgrim said, “What you are referring to, Your Majesty, is the laborious way of scaling mountains and peaks by those who must stay on their feet. To tell you the truth, old Monkey can traverse these three thousand miles and be back here before the wine poured out turns cold in the goblet.” “Divine monk,” said the king, “don’t be offended by what we have to say, but your estimable countenance resembles that of an ape. How could you possess such magic power to move so quickly?” Pilgrim replied,
Though I’m numbered among the simian kind,
I’ve cut since my youth a path through birth and death.
I’ve sought tutors far to teach me the Way;
For countless days I’ve trained1 before the mount.
With Earth as oven and Heaven its top,
Two kinds of drug whirled round the hare and crow.2
I picked yin and yang, mating water and fire;
In time I broke through the mysterious pass.3
I relied on the stars’ transportive power,4
And on the Dipper for moving my steps.
Most punctual to boost or reduce the fire,
I watched to add quicksilver or pull out lead.
Five Phases conjoined, creation began.
Four images5 well mixed and times were fixed.
With Two Breaths returned to the Yellow Way,6
Three Parties7 met on the Gold Elixir road.
These laws, all realized, now move my four limbs;
My somersault works like I’m helped by gods.
One skip will land me beyond Mount Taihang;8
One flip sends me past Cloud-Transcending Stream.9
Who would fear ten thousand folds of tall peak,
Or long wide rivers by hundreds and scores?
My transformation no hurdle can block:
One leap, a hundred and eight thousand miles!
Both astonished and delighted by this recital of Pilgrim’s, the king took a goblet of imperial wine and, smiling broadly, presented it to Pilgrim, saying, “Divine monk, you have to travel far. Take this to prepare for your journey.” As our Great Sage was intent on leaving to subdue the fiend, how could he care about drinking wine anymore? All he could say was, “Please put it down. Let me drink it after I return.” Dear Pilgrim! He said he was leaving, and with a whistle, he vanished from sight. We shall leave those astonished ruler and subjects for the moment.
We tell you now about our Pilgrim, who leaped into the air and soon discovered a mountain rearing up at the edge of the fog. He lowered his cloud immediately and stood on the peak to survey the region. Marvelous mountain!
It rushes the sky and overruns the earth;
It blots out the sun and begets the clouds.
Where it rushes the sky,
Pointed peaks rise erect.
Where it overruns the earth,
Wide ranges spread unending.
What blots out the sun
Are fresh thick pines of the summit.
What begets the clouds
Are sharp, jagged rocks beneath the cliff.
Fresh thick pines
Remain ever green in all four seasons;
Sharp jagged rocks
Stay unchanged in ten thousand years.
You’ll hear now and then apes wailing in the woods,
And often monstrous serpents passing through the brook;
Screeches of mountain fowl;
Grunts and growls of mountain beasts.
Mountain deer and antelope
Dash about here and there in pairs and twos;
Mountain crows and magpies
In flocks and tight formations soar and fly.
The endless sight of mountain flowers and grass;
The timely glow of mountain peaches and fruits.
Though it’s too treacherous a passageway,
It’s a bogus immortal’s reclusive spot.
Thoroughly delighted by this scenery, our Great Sage was just about to search for the entrance of the cave when all at once he saw a roaring fire leaping up from the fold of the mountain. In an instant the sky was filled with red flames, in the midst of which there arose also a nasty column of smoke, more vicious than even the fire. Marvelous smoke! He saw
A flare shining like ten thousand gold lamps;
And fumes leaping like a thousand red rainbows.
The smoke was no oven’s or stove’s,
Nor that of grass and wood.
That smoke had five colors:
Green, red, white, black, and yellow.
It scorched the pillars of the South Heavenly Gate;
It seared the beams of the Divine Mists Hall.
It burned till the beasts in their lairs rotted with their skins,
And feathers on the forest fowl all dissolved.
When one saw such venomous smoke, how then
Could one enter the mount to tame the fiend king?
As the Great Sage stared at this in astonishment, a sandstorm also erupted from within the mountain. Marvelous sand, truly concealing Heaven and blanketing Earth! Look at that
Great, whirling shower spreading through the sky;
The huge, blinding mass all over the earth;
The fine dust dimming one’s sight every where;
Thick ashes rolling downhill like sesame.
The herb-picking lad has his partner lost;
The working woodsman cannot find his house.