by Wu Cheng-En
With fancy combs and a tasseled neck,
Hard claws, long spurs and angry eyes,
Nobly he leaps, complete in all his powers,
Towering majestic as three times he cries.
He is no common fowl who by a cottage crows
But a star down from the sky in all his glory.
Vainly the vicious scorpion took a human form:
Revealed now as herself she ends her story.
Pig went forward and said, one foot planted on the monster's back, “Evil beast, You won't be able to use your horse-killer poison this time.” The monster did not move, whereupon the idiot pounded her to mincemeat with his rake. The star lord gathered his golden light around him once more and rode away on his cloud. Monkey, Pig and Friar Sand all raised their clasped hands to Heaven in thanks.
“We have put you to much trouble,” they said. “We shall go to your palace to thank you another day.”
When the three of them had finished expressing their gratitude they bot the luggage and the horse ready and went into the cave, where the young and old serving girls were kneeling on either side saying, “My lords, we are not evil spirits but women from Western Liang who were carried off by the evil spirit. Your master is sitting in the scented room at the back crying.”
On hearing this Monkey took a very careful look around, and seeing that there were indeed no more devilish vapors he went round to the back and called, “Master!” The Tang Priest was very pleased indeed to see them all there.
“Good disciples,” he said, “I have put you to such a lot of trouble. What has happened to that woman?”
“That damned female was really a scorpion,” said Pig. “Luckily the Bodhisattva Guanyin told us what to do. Brother Monkey went to the palaces of Heaven to ask the Star Lord of the Pleiades to come down and defeat the demon. I've beaten her to pulp. That's why we dared to come right inside to see you, Master.”
The Tang Priest thanked them deeply. They then looked for some meat-free rice and noodles and laid on a meal for themselves that they ate. The kidnapped women were all taken down the mountain and shown the way back home. Then they lit a firebrand and burned down all the buildings there before helping the Tang Priest back on his horse and continuing along the main road West. Indeed:
They cut themselves off from worldly connections,
Turning away from the lures of desire.
By pushing right back the ocean of gold,
In their minds and their hearts their awareness was higher.
If you don't know how many years were to pass before they finally won their true achievement, listen to the explanation in the next installment.
Chapter 56
The Spirit Goes Wild and Wipes Out the Bandits
The Way in Confusion Sends the Mind-Ape Away
As the poem goes,
The heart that is empty of all things is said to be pure,
In utter placidity not giving rise to a thought.
The ape and the horse must be tethered, not left to run wild;
The spirit must always be cautious, not seeking for glory.
Wake up to Three Vehicles, wipe out the Six Bandits,
And all human destinies then become clear.
Extinguish the evil of sex and rise to enjoy
The pleasures of paradise that can be found in the West.
The story tells how Tang Sanzang bit on the bullet, straggled with all his powers to preserve the purity of his body and was rescued from the Pipa Cave when Monkey and the others killed the scorpion spirit. There is nothing to tell about the next stage of their journey, and it was soon summer again. What they saw was
Fragrant winds carrying the scent of wild orchids,
New bamboo cool as the skies clear after rain;
No travelers to pick artemisia on the hillside,
And the fragrant flowers of cattails filling the streams.
Bees are bewitched by pomegranates' beauty,
While siskins delight in the willow trees' shade.
How can the wayfarers offer dumplings to Qu Yuan?
Dragon boats should be mourning his death in the river.
Master and disciples were just enjoying the early summer scenery as they spent the day of the Dragonboat Festival without being able to celebrate it when a high mountain rose in front of them to block their way forward. Sanzang reined in his horse and turned back to say, “Be careful, Wukong: I'm worried that there may be demons on that mountain ahead.”
“Don't worry, Master,” said Brother Monkey. “We are all faithful believers. I'm not scared of demons.” This reply pleased the venerable elder greatly, who
Whipped on his noble charger,
Gave the dragon steed his head.
Before long they were above a rock-face on the mountain, and when they raised their heads to look around this is what they saw:
Cypress and pine that touch the azure heavens,
Creepers climbing up hazels on the cliffs.
A hundred thousand feet high,
A thousand sheer-cut strata.
A hundred thousand feet high are the towering pinnacles;
A thousand sheer-cut strata of the chasm's sides.
Mosses and liverwort cover damp rocks,
Locust and juniper form a great forest.
Deep in the forest
Birds are heard unseen,
Singing their songs with beautiful voices.
The water in the brook is a torrent of jade;
The fallen blooms by the path are piles of gold.
The mountain is steep,
The going is hard,
And hardly a pace is on level ground.
Foxes and David's deer come in twos;
White stage and black gibbons greet one in pairs.
The bowl of the tiger fills one with terror;
The call of the crane resounds through the sky.
Plum and red apricot provide one with food;
No names can be put to the many wild flowers.
After climbing the mountain slowly for a long time the four of them crossed the summit, and on the Western slopes they saw a stretch of level sunlit ground. Pig put on a great show of energy, telling Friar Sand to carry the luggage while he raised his rake in both hands and tried to drive the horse ahead. But the horse was not afraid of him and carried on at the same slow pace despite all the noises he made to speed it up.
“Why are you trying to make the horse go faster, brother?” Monkey asked. “Let it walk slowly at its own speed.”
“It's getting late,” Pig replied, “and I'm hungry after that day on the mountain. We'd better get a move on and find a house to beg some food from.”
“In that case let me speed him up,” said Monkey waving his gold-banded cudgel and shouting, at which the horse slipped its halter and started to gallop along the track with the speed of an arrow. Do you wonder why the horse was afraid of Monkey but not of Pig? It was because five hundred years earlier Monkey had been given a post in the Imperial Stables in the Daluo Heaven as Protector of the Horses; the name has been passed on right till the present day, which is why all horses are still afraid of monkeys. The venerable elder could not keep hold of the reins: he simply held tight to the saddle and gave the horse its head as it galloped six or seven miles towards some farm land before slowing down to a walk.
As Sanzang was riding along he heard a gong being struck as over thirty men armed with spears, swords and staves emerged from both sides of the track to block his way and say, “Where do you think you're going, monk?” This made the Tang Priest shake with fright so badly that he lost his seat and fell off the horse.
“Spare my life, Your Majesty,” he pleaded as he squatted in the undergrowth by the path, “Spare my life.”
The two chiefs of the gang then said, “We're not going to kill you. Just give us your money.” Only then did the venerable elder realize that they were bandits. As he raised his head to look at them this is what he saw:
One's blue face
and protruding fangs were worse than an evil god's:
The other's bulging eyes were like the Star of Death.
The red hair at their temples seemed ablaze;
Their brownish bristles were as sharp as needles.
Both wore berets of tiger skin.
And kilts of marten fur.
One carried a cudgel with wolf-tooth spikes,
The other a rope of knotted rattan.
They were no less terrible than mountain tigers,
And just as frightening as dragons from the waters.
On seeing how murderous they looked Sanzang could only rise to his feet, put his hands together before his chest, and say, “Your Majesties, I have been sent by the Tang emperor in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. It has been many years since I left Chang'an and all my travelling money was finished long ago. We monks may only support ourselves by begging-we don't have any money. I beg you, Your Majesties, to show charity and allow me to pass.” The two bandit chiefs led their men forward and said, “We here are tigers. The only reason we stop travelers on the main roads is to get rich. Charity doesn't come into it. If you've got no money, take your clothes off and give us that white horse, then we'll let you go on your way.”
“Amitabha Buddha!” said Sanzang. “This habit of mine was begged piece by piece, a bit of cloth from one family and a needle from another. If you take it you will be killing me. If you act as tough guys in this life you'll be reborn as animals in the next.”
One of the bandit chiefs was so infuriated by this remark that he started to wave his cudgel about and went up to Sanzang to strike him. Unable to speak, Sanzang could only think, “Poor man, you may think you've got a cudgel: wait till you find out about my disciple's.” The bandit was in no mood for argument as he raised his cudgel and started to lay about Sanzang. Sanzang, who in all his life had never told a lie, in this desperate crisis had to make one up now: “Don't hit me, Your Majesties. I have a young disciple following behind me who'll be here soon. He has several ounces of silver that he'll give to you.”
“Don't hurt the monk,” said one of the bandit chiefs. “Tie him up.” The crowd of bandits then fell upon him, roped him up, and suspended him high from a tree.
The three disaster-bringing spirits were still following behind. Pig was chuckling aloud as he said, “The master's been going very fast. I don't know where he's waiting for us.” Then he saw Sanzang in the tree and said, “Just look at the master, He could have just waited if he'd wanted to, but he was in such high spirits he had to climb a tree and make a swing out of creepers.”
“Stop talking nonsense,” said Monkey when he saw what had happened. “The master's been hung up there, hasn't he? You two wait for a moment while I go up and look around.”
The splendid Great Sage then rushed up the slope to look around and saw the bandits. “I'm in luck,” he thought with glee, “I'm in luck. Business has brought itself to my front door.” With that he turned round, shook himself, and turned into a trim little novice of only sixteen wearing a black habit and carrying a bundle wrapped in blue cotton cloth on his shoulder. Then he stepped out until he was by the master and called, “Master, what's been happening? Who are these wicked people?”
“Rescue me, disciple,” said Sanzang, “and stop asking so many questions.”
“What's it all about?” Monkey asked.
“These highwaymen blocked my way and demanded money,” Sanzang replied. “As I don't have any they hung me up here. I'm waiting for you to work something out. If you can't you'll just have to give them the horse.”
“You're hopeless, Master,” laughed Monkey. “Of all the monks in the world there can be few as soft as you. When the Tang Emperor Taizong sent you to worship the Buddha in the Western Heaven he never told you to give that dragon horse away.”
“Whatever was I to do when they hung me up here and were hitting me as they demanded things?” said Sanzang.
“What did you say to them?” Monkey asked.
“I was so desperate when they beat me that I had no choice: I had to tell them about you,” Sanzang replied.
“Master,” said Monkey, “you're useless. Why ever did you squeal on me?”
“I told them that you were carrying some money,” said Sanzang. “I only did it in desperation to stop them beating me.”
“Great,” said Brother Monkey, “great. Thanks for the recommendation. That just how to squeal on me. You can do that seventy or eighty times a month if you like, and I'll do more business than ever.”
When the bandits saw Monkey talking to his master they spread out to surround them and said, “Little monk, get out the money your master told us you're carrying inside your belt and we'll spare your life. But if you even try to say no, you're dead.”
“Don't shout, gentlemen,” said Monkey, putting his bundle down. “I've got some money in here, but not much-only twenty horseshoe ingots of gold and twenty or thirty ingots of frosted silver, not counting the smaller pieces. If you want it I'll get the whole packet out as long as you don't hit my master. As the ancient book has it, 'Virtue is the root, and wealth is only the tip of the branch'. This is just the tip of the branch. We men of religion can always find a place to beg. When we meet a benefactor who feeds monks there'll be plenty of money and clothes for us. We don't need much at all. As soon as you've let my master down I'll give you it all.”
When the bandits heard this they were delighted, and they all said, “The old monk is stingy, but this little monk is very generous. Let him down.” Now that his life had been spared the venerable elder leapt on the horse and galloped back the way he had come, making good use of the whip and not giving Monkey another thought.
“You've gone the wrong way,” Monkey called out in alarm, then picked up his bundle and started to run after him, only to find his way blocked by the bandits.
“Where do you think you're going?” they asked. “Give us your money or we'll have to torture you.”
“Now we're on that subject,” said Monkey, “we'll have to split the money three ways.”
“You're a bit of a rascal, aren't you, little monk?” said one of the bandit chiefs. “You want to keep something without letting your master know. All right then. Bring it all out and we'll have a look at it. If there's a lot we'll let you keep a bit to buy fruit with on the side.”
“That's not what I mean at all, brother,” said Monkey. “I haven't got any money. What I mean is that you've got to give me a cut of the gold and silver you two have stolen from other people.”
This infuriated the bandit chief, who shouted abusively, “You're asking for it, little monk. Wanting ours instead of giving us yours! Stay where you are and take this.” He lifted his knotted rattan cane and brought it down on Monkey's head six or seven times.
Monkey pretended not to notice, and his face was wreathed in smiles as he said, “Brother, if you can only hit me like that you could still be hitting me at the end of next spring and you wouldn't really have hit me at all.”
“You have a very hard head,” exclaimed the shocked bandit.
“No, no, you overpraise me: I just get by with it,” Monkey replied. With that the discussion was cut short as two or three of the bandits rushed at Monkey and started lashing out at him.
“Keep your tempers, gentlemen,” said Monkey, “while I get it out.”
The splendid Great Sage then felt in his ear and pulled out an embroidery needle. “Gentlemen,” he said, “we monks really don't carry money with us. All I can give you is this needle.”
“What lousy luck,” said one of the bandits. “We've let the rich monk go and kept this bald donkey who's not got a penny to his name. I suppose you do tailoring. A needle's no use to us.” On hearing that they did not want it Monkey held the needle in his hand, waved it, and turned it into a cudgel as thick as a rice bowl.
“Young you may be, little monk,” said the terrified bandits, “but you certainly have some magical powers.”
Monkey
then thrust the cudgel into the ground and said, “If any of you gentlemen can move it it's yours.” The two bandit chiefs rushed up to grab it, but they could no more move it than a dragonfly can move a stone pillar: it did not shift a fraction of an inch. How could those bandits have known that the gold-banded As-You-Will cudgel had been weighed on the scales of Heaven at 13,500 pounds? Then Monkey stepped forward, lifted it effortlessly, spun it in a writhing python movement, pointed it at the robbers and said, “You're all out of luck: you've met Monkey.”
The bandit chief rushed at him again and hit him another fifty or sixty times. “Your hands must be getting tired,” said Monkey. “Let me hit you one now, but don't think this is the real thing.” Watch him as he swings his cudgel, shakes it, and makes it as thick as the top of a well and seventy or eighty feet long. A single blow of it struck one bandit chief to the ground. He bit the dust and said no more.
“You're pretty cheek there, baldy,” said the other bandit chief abusively. “You've got no money, and now you've killed one of us.”
“Just a moment,” said Monkey with a smile. “I'm going to kill every one of you and wipe you all out.” With another swing of his cudgel he killed the other bandit chief, at which all their men threw down their spears and clubs and scattered in terror, fleeing for their lives.
The Tang Priest galloped Eastwards until Pig and Friar Sand stopped him and asked, “Where are you going, Master? This is the wrong way.”
“Disciples,” said Sanzang, reining in his horse, “go back and tell your brother to be merciful with that cudgel of his and not kill all the bandits.”
“Stop here, Master,” said Pig. “I'll go.” The idiot ran straight back along the path, shouting at the top of his voice, “Brother, the master says you're not to kill them.”
“Have I killed anyone?” Monkey asked.
“Where have the bandits all gone?” said Pig. “They've all run away apart from the two chiefs. They're asleep here.”