by Unknown
He’ll become a Buddha of gold.
When Taizong saw the gāthā, he said to the various monks: “Let’s stop the Mass. Wait until I have sent someone to bring back the scriptures of the Great Vehicle. We shall then renew our sincere effort to cultivate the fruits of virtue.” Not one of the officials disagreed with the emperor, who then asked in the temple, “Who is willing to accept our commission to seek scriptures from Buddha in the Western Heaven?” Hardly had he finished speaking when the Master of the Law stepped from the side and saluted him, saying, “Though your poor monk has no talents, he is ready to perform the service of a dog and a horse. I shall seek these true scriptures on behalf of Your Majesty, that the empire of our king may be firm and everlasting.” Highly pleased, the Tang emperor went forward to raise up the monk with his royal hands, saying, “If the Master is willing to express his loyalty this way, undaunted by the great distance or by the journey over mountains and streams, we are willing to become bond brothers with you.” Xuanzang touched his forehead to the ground to express his gratitude. Being indeed a righteous man, the Tang emperor went at once before Buddha’s image in the temple and bowed to Xuanzang four times, addressing him as “our brother and holy monk.”
Deeply moved, Xuanzang said, “Your Majesty, what ability and what virtue does your poor monk possess that he should merit such affection from your Heavenly Grace? I shall not spare myself in this journey, but I shall proceed with all diligence until I reach the Western Heaven. If I do not attain my goal, or the true scriptures, I shall not return to our land even if I have to die. I would rather fall into eternal perdition in Hell.” He thereupon lifted the incense before Buddha and made that his vow. Highly pleased, the Tang emperor ordered his carriage back to the palace to wait for the auspicious day and hour, when official documents could be issued for the journey to begin. And so the Throne withdrew as everyone dispersed.
Xuanzang also went back to the Temple of Great Blessing. The many monks of that temple and his several disciples, who had heard about the quest for the scriptures, all came to see him. They asked, “Is it true that you have vowed to go to the Western Heaven?” “It is,” said Xuanzang. “O Master,” one of his disciples said, “I have heard people say that the way to the Western Heaven is long, filled with tigers, leopards, and all kinds of monsters. I fear that there will be departure but no return for you, as it will be difficult to safeguard your life.”
“I have already made a great vow and a profound promise,” said Xuanzang, “that if I do not acquire the true scriptures, I shall fall into eternal perdition in Hell. Since I have received such grace and favor from the king, I have no alternative but to serve my country to the utmost of my loyalty. It is true, of course, that I have no knowledge of how I shall fare on this journey or whether good or evil awaits me.” He said to them again, “My disciples, after I leave, wait for two or three years, or six or seven years. If you see the branches of the pine trees within our gate pointing eastward, you will know that I am about to return. If not, I shall not be coming back.” The disciples all committed his words firmly to memory.
The next morning Taizong held court and gathered all the officials together. They wrote up the formal rescript stating the intent to acquire scriptures and stamped it with the seal of free passage. The President of the Imperial Board of Astronomy then came with the report, “Today the positions of the planets are especially favorable for men to make a journey of great length.” The Tang emperor was most delighted. Thereafter the Custodian of the Yellow Gate also made a report, saying, “The Master of the Law awaits your pleasure outside the court.” The emperor summoned him up to the treasure hall and said, “Royal Brother, today is an auspicious day for the journey, and your rescript for free passage is ready. We also present you with a bowl made of purple gold for you to collect alms on your way. Two attendants have been selected to accompany you, and a horse will be your means of travel. You may begin your journey at once.”
Highly pleased, Xuanzang expressed his gratitude and received his gifts, not displaying the least desire to linger. The Tang emperor called for his carriage and led many officials outside the city gate to see him off. The monks in the Temple of Great Blessing and the disciples were already waiting there with Xuanzang’s winter and summer clothing. When the emperor saw them, he ordered the bags to be packed on the horses first, and then asked an officer to bring a pitcher of wine. Taizong lifted his cup to toast the pilgrim, saying, “What is the byname of our Royal Brother?” “Your poor monk,” said Xuanzang, “is a person who has left the family. He dares not assume a byname.” “The Bodhisattva said earlier,” said Taizong, “that there were three collections of scriptures in the Western Heaven. Our Brother can take that as a byname and call himself Tripitaka. How about it?” Thanking him, Xuanzang accepted the wine and said, “Your Majesty, wine is the first prohibition of priesthood. Your poor monk has practiced abstinence since birth.” “Today’s journey,” said Taizong, “is not to be compared with any ordinary event. Please drink one cup of this dietary wine, and accept our good wishes that go along with the toast.” Xuanzang dared not refuse; he took the wine and was about to drink, when he saw Taizong stoop down to scoop up a handful of dirt with his fingers and sprinkle it in the wine. Tripitaka had no idea what this gesture meant.
“Dear Brother,” said Taizong, laughing, “how long will it take you to come back from this trip to the Western Heaven?” “Probably in three years time,” said Tripitaka, “I’ll be returning to our noble nation.” “The years are long and the journey is great,” said Taizong. “Drink this, Royal Brother, and remember:
Treasure a handful of dirt from your home,
But love not ten thousand taels of foreign gold.”
Then Tripitaka understood the meaning of the handful of dirt sprinkled in his cup; he thanked the emperor once more and drained the cup. He went out of the gate and left, as the Tang emperor returned in his carriage. We do not know what will happen to him on this journey; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
THIRTEEN
In the den of tigers, the Gold Star brings deliverance;
At Double-Fork Ridge, Boqin detains the monk.
The rich Tang ruler issued a decree,
Deputing Xuanzang to seek the source of Chan.
He bent his mind to find the Dragon Den,
With firm resolve to climb the Vulture Peak.1
Through how many states did he roam beyond his own?
Through clouds and hills he passed ten thousand times.
He now leaves the throne to go to the West;
He’ll keep law and faith to reach the Great Void.
We shall now tell you about Tripitaka, who, on the third day before the fifteenth of the ninth month in the thirteenth year of the period Zhenguan, was sent off by the Tang emperor and many officials from outside the gate of Chang’an. For a couple of days his horse trotted without ceasing, and soon they reached the Temple of the Law Gate. The abbot of that temple led some five hundred monks on both sides to receive him and took him inside. As they met, tea was served, after which a vegetarian meal was presented. Soon after the meal, dusk fell, and thus
Shadows moved to the Star River’s nearing pulse;
The moon was bright without a speck of dust.
The wild geese called from the distant sky,
And washing flails beat from nearby homes.
As birds returned to perch on withered trees,
The Chan monks conversed in their Sanskrit tones.
On rush mats placed upon a single bunk,
They sat until halfway through the night.
Beneath the lamps the various monks discussed Buddhist doctrines and the purpose of seeking scriptures in the Western Heaven. Some pointed out that the waters were wide and the mountains very high; others mentioned that the roads were crowded with tigers and leopards; still others maintained that the precipitous peaks were difficult to scale; and another group insisted that the vicious monsters were hard
to subdue. Tripitaka, however, kept his mouth shut tightly, but he pointed with his finger to his own heart and nodded his head several times. Not perceiving what he meant, the various monks folded their hands and asked, “Why did the Master of the Law point to his heart and nod his head?”
“When the mind is active,” Tripitaka replied, “all kinds of māra come into existence; when the mind is extinguished, all kinds of māra will be extinguished. This disciple has already made an important vow before Buddha in the Temple of Transformation, and he has no alternative but to fulfill it with his whole heart. If I go, I shall not turn aside until I have reached the Western Heaven, seen Buddha, and acquired the scriptures so that the Wheel of the Law will be turned to us2 and the kingdom of our lord will be secured forever.” When the various monks heard this statement, everyone congratulated and commended him, saying, “A loyal and valiant master!” They praised him unceasingly as they escorted him to bed.
Soon
The bamboos struck down the setting moon3
And the cocks crowed to gather the clouds of dawn.
The various monks arose and prepared some tea and the morning meal. Xuanzang put on his cassock and went to worship Buddha in the main hall. “Your disciple, Chen Xuanzang,” he said, “is on his way to seek scriptures in the Western Heaven. But my fleshly eyes are dim and unperceptive and do not recognize the true form of the living Buddha. Now I wish to make a vow: that throughout this journey I shall burn incense whenever I come upon a temple, I shall worship Buddha whenever I meet a Buddha, and I shall sweep a pagoda whenever I reach a pagoda. May our Buddha be merciful and soon reveal to me his Diamond Body sixteen feet tall. May he grant me the true scriptures so that they may be preserved in the Land of the East.”
He finished his prayer and went back to the hall for the vegetarian meal, after which his two attendants made ready the saddle and urged him to begin his journey. Going out of the temple’s gate, Tripitaka took leave of the monks, who grieved to see him go. They accompanied him for ten miles before turning back, tears in their eyes, as Tripitaka proceeded directly toward the West. It was the time of late autumn. You see
Trees growing bare in hamlets as rush petals break;
From every maple column the red leaves fall.
Trekkers through paths of mist and rain are few.
The fair chrysanthemums,
The sharp mountain rocks,
Cold streams and cracked lilies all make one sad.
Snow falls from a frosty sky on rushes and reeds.
One duck at dusk descends in the distant void.
Clouds o’er the wilds move through the gathering gloom.
The swallows depart;
The wild geese appear—
Their cries, though loud, are halting and forlorn.4
After traveling for several days, master and disciples arrived at the city of Gongzhou. They were met at once by the various municipal officials of that city, where they spent the night. The next morning they set off again, taking food and drink along the way, resting by night and journeying by day. In two or three days, they arrived at the District of Hezhou, which formed the border of the Great Tang Empire. When the garrison commander of the border as well as the local monks and priests heard that the Master of the Law, a bond brother of the emperor, was on his way to the Western Heaven to see Buddha by royal commission, they received the travelers with due reverence. Some chief priests then invited them to spend the night at Fuyuan Temple, where every resident cleric came to pay respect to the pilgrims. Dinner was served, after which the two attendants were told to feed the horses well, for the Master wanted to leave before dawn. At the first crowing of the cock, he called for his attendants and aroused the monks of that temple. They hastened to prepare tea and breakfast, after which the pilgrims departed from the border.
Because he was somewhat impatient to get going, the Master arose a trifle too early. The fact is that this was late autumn, when cocks crow rather early—at about the time of the fourth watch. Facing the clear frost and the bright moon, the three of them (the horse made up the fourth member of the team) journeyed for some twenty or thirty miles, when they came upon a mountain range. It soon became exceedingly difficult for them to find their way. As they had to poke around in the grass to look for a path, they began to worry that they might be heading in the wrong direction. In that very anxious moment, they suddenly tripped; all three of them as well as the horse tumbled into a deep pit. Tripitaka was terrified; his companions all shook with fear. They were still trembling when they heard voices shouting, “Seize them! Seize them!” A violent wind swept by, and a mob of fifty or sixty ogres appeared, who seized Tripitaka with his companions and hauled them out of the pit. Quivering and shivering, the Master of the Law stole a glance around and saw a ferocious Monster King seated up on high. Truly he had
A figure most awesomely bold,
A face most distinctly fierce.
Light flashed from his lightninglike eyes;
All quaked at his thunderous voice.
His sawlike teeth jutted outward,
Like fangs they emerged from his jaws.
Brocade wrapped his body around,
And coiling stripes covered his spine.
They saw flesh through sparse, steely whiskers.
Keen-edged were his claws like sharp swords.
Even Huang Gong of East Sea would fear5
This white-browed King of Mount South.
Tripitaka was so frightened that his spirit left him, while the bones of his followers grew weak and their tendons turned numb.
The Monster King shouted for them to be bound, and the various ogres tied up all three of them with ropes. They were being prepared to be eaten when a clamor was heard outside the camp. Someone came in to report: “The Bear Mountain Lord and the Steer Hermit have arrived.” Hearing this, Tripitaka looked up. The first one to come in was a swarthy fellow. “How did he look?” you ask.
He seemed valiant and courageous,
With body both tough and brawny.
His great strength could ford the waters.
He prowled the woods, flaunting his power.
Ever a good omen in dreams,6
He showed now his forceful features.
He could break or climb the green trees,
And predicted when winter was near.
Truly he was most clever.
Hence Mountain Lord was his name.
Following behind him was another husky fellow. “How did he look?” you ask.
A cap of twin horns rugged,
And a humpback most majestic.
His green robe showed his calm nature,
He walked with a slumberous gait.
He came from a father named Bull;
His mother’s proper name was Cow.
A great boon to people who plowed,
He was thus called the Steer Hermit.
The two of them swaggered in, and the Monster King hurried out to receive them. The Bear Mountain Lord said, “You are in top form, General Yin. Congratulations! Congratulations!” “General Yin looks better than ever,” said the Steer Hermit. “It’s marvelous! It’s marvelous!” “And you two gentlemen, how have you been these days?” asked the Monster King. “Just maintaining my idleness,” said the Mountain Lord. “Just keeping up with the times,” said the Hermit. After these exchanges, they sat down to chat some more.
Meanwhile, one of Tripitaka’s attendants was bound so tightly that he began to moan pitifully. “How did these three get here?” asked the swarthy fellow. “They practically presented themselves at the door!” said the Monster King. “Can they be used for the guests’ dinner?” asked the Hermit, laughing. “By all means!” said the Monster King. “Let’s not finish them all up,” said the Mountain Lord. “We’ll dine on two of them and leave one over.” The Monster King agreed. He called his subordinates at once to have the attendants eviscerated and their carcasses carved up; their heads, hearts, and livers were to be presented to the guests, the
limbs to the host, and the remaining portions of flesh and bone to the rest of the ogres. The moment the order was given, the ogres pounced on the attendants like tigers preying on sheep: munching and crunching, they devoured them in no time at all. The priest nearly died of fear, for this, you see, was his first bitter ordeal since his departure from Chang’an.
As he was nursing his horror, light began to grow in the east. The two monsters did not retire until dawn. Saying, “We’re beholden to your generous hospitality today. Permit us to repay in kind in another time,” they left together. Soon the sun rose high in the sky, but Tripitaka was still in a stupor, unable to discern which way was north, south, east, or west. In that half-dead condition, he suddenly saw an old man approaching, holding a staff in his hands. Walking up to Tripitaka, the man waved his hands and all the ropes snapped. He then blew on Tripitaka, and the monk began to revive. Falling on the ground, he said, “I thank the aged father for saving the life of this poor monk!” “Get up,” the old man said, returning his salute, “have you lost anything?”
“The followers of your poor monk,” said Tripitaka, “have been eaten by the monsters. I have no idea where my horse is or my luggage.” “Isn’t that your horse over there with the two bundles?” asked the old man, pointing with his staff. Tripitaka turned around and discovered that his belongings had indeed remained untouched. Somewhat relieved, he asked the old man, “Aged father, what is this place? How do you happen to be here?” “It is called the Double-Fork Ridge, a place infested with tigers and wolves. How did you manage to get here?” “At the first crow of the cock,” said Tripitaka, “your poor monk left the District of Hezhou. Little did I realize that we had risen too early, and we lost our way tramping through fog and dew. We came upon this Monster King so exceedingly ferocious that he captured me and my two followers. There was also a swarthy fellow called the Bear Mountain Lord and a husky fellow called the Steer Hermit. They arrived and addressed the Monster King as General Yin. All three of them devoured my two followers and retired only at dawn. I have no idea where I accrued the fortune and merit that caused the aged father to rescue me here.”