Journey to the West (vol. 1)

by Wu Cheng-En

  Distant clouds,

  A long road;

  Although this was a distant land,

  The scenery was as fine as home.

  Auspicious mists enshrouded the city;

  Fresh breezes were blowing under the clear moon.

  Towering mountains, seen from afar,

  Were spread out like a picture.

  Rivers flowed rippling,

  Like streams of crushed jasper.

  There were fields upon fields of farmland

  Where new crops sprouted close together.

  A handful of fishermen worked three stretches of water,

  A wood-gatherer carried twigs from a couple of hills.

  The outer wall

  And the inner wall of the city,

  Were rock-solid.

  The houses

  And homes

  Vied in elegance.

  Nine-storied pavilions were like palaces,

  High towers like imperial columns.

  There was a Hall of the Great Ultimate,

  A Flowery Canopied Hall,

  A Hall of Incense,

  A Hall of Literary Perusal,

  A Hall of Government Proclaimed,

  A Hall of Splendor Extended,

  All with steps of jade and gold

  Where civil and military officers stood in their ranks.

  There was also a Great Brightness Palace,

  A Palace of Shining Radiance,

  A Palace of Eternal Joy,

  A Palace of Illustrious Purity,

  A Palace of Established Enlightenment,

  A Palace of Inexhaustible Glory.

  In every palace were gongs, drums, pipes and flutes,

  Lamenting the sorrows of spring and the harem's woes.

  Then there were imperial parks

  Where dew bathed the flowers' tender petals;

  And royal canals

  Where willows bent their slender waists in the wind.

  On the highways

  Were belted gentlemen in official hats,

  Attired in all their splendor

  As they rode in five-horsed chariots;

  In remote corners

  Were archers with bows and arrows

  Whose shots split the clouds apart

  And skewered pairs of hawks.

  What with the willow-lined streets,

  And the houses full of music,

  This spring scene rivaled the Luoyang Bridge.

  The pilgrim who was seeking the sutras

  Was torn with nostalgia for the Great Tang;

  The disciples accompanying their master

  In a rest-house found happiness in their dream.

  Gazing at the view of Elephantia the master and his two disciples dealt with the luggage and the horse and settled down in a rest-house.

  The Tang Priest went on foot to the palace gates, where he said to the High Custodian of the gate, “I beg you to report that there is a monk from the Tang Court who has come for a personal audience with His Majesty and has a letter of credentials.”

  A eunuch messenger hurried to the white jade steps and announced, “Your Majesty, a distinguished priest from the Tang Court has come for an audience as he has a letter of credentials to deliver.” The king was delighted to hear that he was from the mighty land of Tang and was himself a venerable and holy monk, so he gave his approval at once with the words, “Call him in.”

  Sanzang was summoned to the golden steps, where he danced in obeisance and called out the correct greeting. On either side the many civil and military officers all sighed with admiration and said, “What impressive music and ritual this gentleman from that distinguished country has.”

  “Venerable sir, why have you come to my country?” the king asked.

  “I am a Buddhist from the land of Tang,” Sanzang replied, “and I am going to the Western Heaven on the Emperor's orders to fetch the scriptures. I am carrying a letter of credentials, and now that I have arrived in Your Majesty's country it seems proper to hand it to you. Not knowing whether to advance or retreat, I must apologize for disturbing the Dragon Countenance.”

  “If you have Tang credentials,” the king replied, “bring them here for me to see.” Sanzang handed the letter up respectfully with both hands and unfolded it on the king's table. It read:

  From the Tang Emperor of the Great Tang Kingdom, who reigns by order of Heaven, in the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa.

  Despite our feeble virtues we have succeeded to the throne, and in worshipping the gods and ruling the people we are as careful morning and night as if we were on the edge of a precipice or treading on thin ice. Because we failed to save the Dragon King of the Jing River, punishment was visited on our august self; our souls were rushed to the underworld and we became a guest in the land of death. As our lifespan was not yet over, the Lord of Darkness sent us back to the world of the living. We held a Great Assembly of monks and built a holy altar where the souls of the dead could be brought over to the other side. To our great gratitude the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the deliverer from suffering, appeared in person and told us that there is a Buddha in the West who has scriptures that will save the lost and bring lonely souls who have nobody to help them over to the other side. We have therefore especially commissioned the Patriarch Xuanzang to make the long journey across countless mountains to seek for the scriptures and psalms. Should he come to any countries in the West we hope that on seeing this letter they will allow him to go on his way and not impede this predestined good deed. This is addressed to whom it may concern. Given by His Imperial Majesty on an auspicious day in the autumn of the thirteenth year of Then Guan of the Great Tang.

  When he had read this letter, which bore nine imperial seals, the king sealed it with his great seal and handed it back to Sanzang, who thanked him as he took it. “Not only did I have a letter of credentials to present,” he reported, “I have also brought a family letter to deliver to Your Majesty.” The king was delighted and asked what it was. “I happened to meet Your Majesty's third princess, who was carried off by the Yellow-Robed Monster of the Moon Waters Cave in the Bowl Mountain, and she gave me this letter to deliver to you.” Tears poured from the king's eyes at the news, and he said, “It is thirteen years since I saw her last, and I don't know how many military and civil officers I can have dismissed or degraded, and how many of the ladies-in-waiting, serving maids, and eunuchs I have had beaten to death since then. I imagined that she had wandered out of the palace and lost her way, and I looked for her everywhere. Even when all the ordinary citizens were interrogated I could find no news of her whereabouts. I never thought that an evil monster could have carried her off. Hearing this all of a sudden makes me weep for sorrow.” Sanzang produced the letter from his sleeve and handed it to the king, who on seeing the words, “All is well” on the outside felt so weak in his hands that he could not open it. He ordered a Grand Scholar from the Academy of Letters to climb the steps of the throne and read it aloud. As the Grand Scholar climbed the steps of the throne, the civil and military officials in front of the throne room and the empresses, royal consorts, and palace ladies behind it all listened intently. The Grand Scholar opened it and read aloud:

  Your unworthy daughter Prettier-than-a-flower kowtows one hundred times to His Most Excellent Majesty the King her father in the Dragon and Phoenix Palace, to her Majesty the Queen her mother outside the Palace of Shining Radiance, and to all the noble ministers and generals of the court; it is my pleasure to send news to you and thank you for the infinite trouble you have taken on my behalf. But I am unable to devote myself to cheering Your Majesty and carry out my filial duties to the full.

  Thirteen years ago, on the festive fifteenth night of the eighth month, when banquets were being given in all the palaces in accordance with Your Majesty's benevolent command, we were enjoying the moonlight and the clear stars. In the middle of our rejoicing a sudden gust of fragrant wind blew up, and from it emerged a demon king with golden pupils, a blue face, and green hai
r, who seized your daughter and carried her away on a magic cloud to a desolate mountain far from human habitation. There was no way I could stop him forcing me to be his wife, and I have had to endure this for thirteen years. I have borne him two fiendish sons, and they are both complete monsters. I would not have written to you and sullied you with the news of my uncivilized and disgraceful experiences, but I was afraid that after my death nobody would know what had happened to me. Just as I was missing my parents and angry about my fate, a Tang monk also happened to be captured by the monster, so with tears in my eyes I am boldly writing this letter and sending it to you as a token of my feelings. I beg you, Majesty, to take pity on me and send a general to the Moon Waters Cave in Bowl Mountain to capture the Yellow-robed Monster, rescue me, and take me back to the palace, this would make me profoundly grateful. Please excuse the hasty and disrespectful tone of this letter.

  With more kowtows,

  Your disobedient daughter,

  Prettier-than-a-flower.

  When the Grand Scholar had read it through, the king wept aloud, the ladies of the palace were all in tears, and the officials were all saddened. Everyone was miserable.

  After weeping for a long time the king asked the civil and military officials which of them would lead troops to capture the monster and rescue Princess Prettier-than-a-flower for him. He asked them all several times, but nobody would accept, the generals looked as though they were carved out of wood, and the officials might have been molded from clay.

  The king was highly agitated, and floods of tears were pouring down his face when the civil and military officials all prostrated themselves before him and said, “Please don't be so disturbed, Your Majesty. The princess has been lost for thirteen years now without anything being heard of her, so we cannot yet know whether she really met this Tang priest and sent a letter by him. Besides, we are all mere mortals, and the military manuals and books of strategy we have studied only cover the deployment of soldiers in battle, making encampments, and what else is necessary to protect the country from the disaster of invasion. That evil spirit travels by cloud and mist, and we would never even be able to catch sight of him, let alone capture him and rescue the Princess. Now that Easterner who is going to fetch scriptures is a holy priest from a great country. This monk must have demon-subduing powers as his 'high qualities overawe the dragons and tigers, and his great virtues give him power over devils and gods.'

  “As the old saying goes, 'The man who comes to argue about rights and wrongs is usually the wrongdoer himself.' Far and away the best plan would be to ask this venerable gentleman to subdue the fiend and rescue the princess.”

  “If you have any supernatural skills, venerable sir,” the king said, turning at once to Sanzang, “then use your dharma powers to capture this evil monster and bring my daughter back to the palace. If you do that there will be no need to travel to the West and visit the Buddha. You can let your hair grow and I will make you my brother. We shall sit together on the dragon throne and share my wealth and honour. What about it?”

  “My only humble skill,” Sanzang hastened to reply, “lies in invoking the Buddha's name, and I really cannot subdue fiends.”

  “If you can't subdue fiends,” the king retorted, “how can you have the courage to go to visit the Buddha in the Western Heaven?”

  Sanzang now told him about the two disciples as he could not keep them a secret any longer. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I could scarcely have come this far by myself. I have two disciples, both skilled at finding ways across mountains and at bridging rivers, who have escorted me here.”

  “You have behaved disgracefully, monk,” said the king angrily. “As you have disciples, you should have brought them with you to see me. Even if we could have offered them no presents they would have liked, they would at least have been given a meal.”

  “My disciples are so hideous,” Sanzang replied, “that I dared not bring them to court for fear of offending Your Majesty's dignity.”

  “What a monkish thing to say,” observed the king with a smile. “You don't really think I would be afraid of them, do you?”

  “Oh, no,” said Sanzang. “The surname of the older one is Pig; his personal names are Wuneng, Awakened to Power, and Bajie, Eight Prohibitions. He has a long snout, vicious fangs, bristles of steel and ears as big as fans. He is so heftily built that he makes a breeze as he walks. The surname of the second disciple is Sand, and his Buddhist name is Monk Awakened to Purity. He is twelve feet tall, and his arms are four feet thick. His face is the color of indigo, and his mouth is like a bowl of blood. His eyes burn and flash, and his teeth are like rows of nails. It was because they both look so terrible that I did not dare bring them with me.”

  “Even after you have told me about them,” said the king, “I know that I have nothing to fear. Have them summoned here.” With that a messenger with a golden tablet was sent to the rest-house to invite them to the palace.

  On receiving the invitation the idiot said to Friar Sand, “Brother, do you still think he shouldn't have delivered the letter? Now you can see the advantages of delivering it. I reckon that when the master delivered it, the king must have thought that the person who brought such a message could not be treated rudely and so laid on a banquet for him. As our master has such a weak appetite he must have remembered us and mentioned our names. This is why the messenger was sent here. After a meal we'll be able to make a good start tomorrow.”

  “This must have been in our destiny,” said Friar Sand. “Let's go.” Entrusting their baggage and the horse to the manager of the hostel they accompanied the messenger to court; they kept their weapons with them. When they reached the white jade steps they stood below them and chanted a “na-a-aw” of respect then stood there without moving. Every one of the civil and military officials was horrified.

  “Apart from being hideous,” they said to each other, “they are far too coarse and vulgar. Why are they standing bolt upright after a mere 'na-a-aw' instead of prostrating themselves before His Majesty? Shocking, quite shocking.”

  Overhearing this, pig said, “Please don't make rude comments on us, gentlemen. This is the way we look, and although we seem ugly at first sight, after a while we become quite bearable.”

  The king, who had been quite frightened at the sight of their brutishness, trembled so violently on hearing the idiot Pig talking that he lost his balance and fell off his dragon throne. Fortunately the gentlemen-in-waiting were on hand to help him up again.

  This threw Sanzang into such a panic that he fell to his knees and kowtowed without stopping, saying, “Your Majesty, I deserve to die ten thousand deaths, ten thousand deaths. I said that my disciples were too hideous for me to dare to bring them to court for fear of harming your dragon dignity, and now I have given Your Majesty this fright.”

  The king walked shakily over to him, raised him to his feet, and said, “Thank goodness you warned me about them beforehand, venerable sir. Otherwise I would undoubtedly have died of shock at the sight of them.” When the king had taken some time to calm himself down he asked Pig and Friar Sand which of the two of them was better at subduing fiends.

  “I am,” said the shameless idiot.

  “How do you do it, pray?” the king asked.

  “I am Marshal Tian Peng,” Pig replied, “and I was exiled to this mortal world for offending against part of the Heavenly Code. Happily I have now returned to the truth and become a monk. I am the best fiend-subduer of all of us who have come here from the East.”

  “If you are a heavenly general turned mortal,” said the king, “you must be good at transformations.”

  “I wouldn't say that much,” Pig replied, “but I can do one or two.”

  “Show me one,” said the king.

  “Tell me what you want me to turn into,” said Pig. “Turn into a giant, then,” said the king.

  Pig, who could do thirty-six transformations, now showed off his powers before the steps of the throne. Clenching his fist and r
eciting the words of the spell he shouted “Grow!” bowed forward, and grew eighty or ninety feet tall. He looked like one of the paper gods carried at the head of funeral processions. The civil and military officials trembled with fright; monarch and subjects alike gazed at him in stupefaction.

  Then the General Guarding the Palace said, “You have certainly grown very tall, venerable sir. How much taller could you grow before you had to stop?”

  “It depends on the wind,” replied the idiot, talking in his idiotic way. “I can manage quite well in an East or a West wind, and if a South wind blows up I can make a big dent in the sky.”

  “Then give your magic powers a rest,” said the king, more frightened than ever. “We are sure you can do that.” Pig contracted himself to his real size and stood in attendance at the foot of the steps once more.

  “What weapon will you use to fight the monster on this mission?” the king asked. Pig pulled his rake from his belt and said, “This rake.”

  “But that would disgrace us,” said the king with a smile. “Here we have steel whips, maces, claws on chains, war-hammers, cutlasses, halberds, pole-axes, battle-axes, swords, bills, spears, and battle-scythes. Choose one that suits you-that rake doesn't count as a real weapon.”

  “What Your Majesty doesn't realize,” Pig replied, “is that although it's crude I've carried it around with me since I was a child. I depended on it completely when I commanded eighty thousand sailors and marines as marshal of the Milky Way, the Heavenly River. Down in this world as my master's escort I've used it to smash the dens of tigers and wolves in the mountains and to turn the nests of dragons and leviathans upside-down in rivers.”

  The king was thoroughly delighted and convinced on hearing this, so he ordered nine of his Royal Consorts to fetch a bottle of his own royal wine with which to send the venerable Pig off; then he filled a goblet and presented it to Pig with the words, “May this cup of wine, venerable father, express my gratitude for the service you are going to render. When you capture the evil monster and bring back my daughter you will be rewarded with a state banquet and a thousand pieces of gold.” For all his coarseness the idiot accepted it with style.