by Unknown
The lady was quite dismayed by what she heard. She did not want to take out the bells, but she was afraid to offend him; if she took them out, however, she feared that Pilgrim might lose his life. As she hesitated, the fiend king again urged her, saying, “Take them out quickly!” The lady had no alternative but to open the lock and hand the three bells over to the fiend king, who grabbed them and ran outside the cave. As tears poured down her face, the lady sat down in the palace, wondering whether Pilgrim could escape with his life. Neither she nor the fiend king, you see, knew that these were specious bells.
As soon as he got outside, the fiend king stood at the upper hand spot of the wind. “Pilgrim Sun,” he cried out, “don’t run away! Watch me shake my bells a little!”
With a laugh, Pilgrim replied, “If you have bells, you think I have none? If you can shake them, you think I can’t shake them?” “What sort of bells do you have?” said the fiend king. “Take them out for me to see.” Pilgrim gave his iron rod a pinch to reduce it to the size of an embroidery needle, which he stored in his ear. Then he untied from his waist those three true treasures and said to the fiend king, “Aren’t these my purple-gold bells?”
Greatly startled by what he saw, the fiend king said to himself, “Odd! Very odd! How could his bells be exactly like mine? Even if they were cast in the same mold, there ought to be some mark here or a blemish there. How could they be exactly alike?” He therefore asked, “Where did your bells come from?” “Worthy nephew,” said Pilgrim, “where did yours come from?”
An honest person, the fiend king said right away, “My bells belonged originally to
Lord Grand Purity, most steeped in the Way.
In eight-trigram stove gold with a long stay
Did forge these bells now called perfected gems
And left behind by Laozi till this day.”
Laughing, Pilgrim said, “Well, the bells of old Monkey also come from that time.” “Where did they come from?” asked the fiend king. Pilgrim said,
In Tushita Hall the Dao Patriarch hale
Had his stove forged these gold bells without fail.
Two threes are six—cyclic treasures they are:
My bells are female whereas yours are male.
“These bells,” said the fiend king, “are treasures forged in the same process as that of the golden elixir. They are not fowl or beasts. How could you use sex to distinguish them? If you can shake something valuable out of them, then they are good treasures.” “It’s useless to talk,” replied Pilgrim, “when only action’s the proof. I’ll let you shake them first.”
The fiend king indeed shook the first bell three times, but no fire came out; he shook the second bell three times, but no smoke came out; and he shook the third bell three times, but no sand came out. Terribly flustered, the fiend king said, “How strange! How strange! The ways of the world have changed! These must be hen-pecked bells! The male sees the female, and that’s why nothing comes out!”
“Stop shaking, worthy nephew!” said Pilgrim. “Let me shake mine for you to see.” Marvelous monkey! He grasped the three bells in his hand and shook them altogether. Just look at the red fire, green smoke, and yellow sand! They poured out together and began at once to engulf the mountain and trees. The Great Sage also recited a spell and, facing the ground toward the southwest, shouted, “Come, wind!” Indeed, a strong gust whipped up the fire, and the fire exploited the power of the wind.
In flaming red
And massive black,
The sky was full of fire and smoke,
And the earth full of yellow sand.
Scared out of his wits, that Jupiter’s Rival wanted to flee but could not find a way out. For in the midst of that kind of fire, how could he possibly escape with his life?
Suddenly a loud voice came from midair: “Sun Wukong, I’ve arrived!” As he turned his head upward quickly, Pilgrim saw that it was the Bodhisattva Guanyin; her left hand was supporting the immaculate vase, while her right hand was sprinkling sweet dew with her willow twig to put out the fire. Pilgrim was so startled that he quickly tucked the bells in his waist, folded his hands before his chest, and bowed low. After the Bodhisattva had sprinkled a few drops of the sweet dew, the smoke and fire all vanished in an instant and there was not a trace of the yellow sand. Kowtowing, Pilgrim said, “I did not know the Great Compassion had descended to Earth, and I have caused offense by not avoiding your sacred presence. May I ask where the Bodhisattva is going?” “I have come,” replied the Bodhisattva, “especially to bring this fiend to submission.”
“What was this fiend’s origin,” said Pilgrim, “that it should necessitate your golden form revealing itself in order to bring him to submission?” The Bodhisattva said, “He is actually the golden-haired wolf that I ride on. Because the lad who looks after him fell asleep, this cursed beast managed to bite through the iron chains and come here to dispel calamity for the king of the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom.”
On hearing this, Pilgrim quickly bowed and said, “The Bodhisattva is twisting the truth! The fiend has mocked the ruler and cheated him of his queen here; he has corrupted the customs and violated the mores. He has, in fact, brought calamity to the ruler. How could you say that he has helped the king to dispel calamity?”
The Bodhisattva replied, “You have no idea that when the deceased king of the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom was still on the throne, the present king, then the crown-prince, was exceedingly fond of hunting when he was still young. Leading men and horses, mounting hawks and hounds, he once came before the Phoenix-Down Slope, where two young birds, one male and another female, were perching. These happened to be the off springs of the Bodhisattva Great King Peacock.8 When the young prince stretched his bow, he wounded the male peacock, and the female one too, returned to the West with an arrow stuck in her body. After the Buddha Mother had pardoned him, she decreed that he should be punished by being separated from his mate for three years and that his body should be inflicted with the illness of yearning. At the time, I was riding this wolf when I heard the sentence pronounced. Little did I realize that this cursed beast would remember it and come here to abduct the queen and dispel calamity for the king. It has been three years now, and his preordained chastisement has been fulfilled. You are to be thanked for arriving to heal the king, and I’ve come especially to bring the fiend to submission.”
“Bodhisattva,” said Pilgrim, “the story may go like this, but he has also defiled the queen, corrupted the customs, upset the relations, and perverted the law. He is worthy of death. Now that you have arrived in person, I shall spare his life but not his living punishment. Let me give him twenty strokes of my rod, and then you may take him away.” “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “if you appreciate my epiphany, then you must, for my sake, grant him a plenary pardon. This will be considered entirely your merit, that of bringing the fiend to submission. If you raise your rod, he will be dead!” As he dared not disobey, Pilgrim had no choice but to bow and say, “After the Bodhisattva has taken him back to South Sea, he must not be permitted to return in secret to the human world again, for he can cause a lot of harm.”
Only then did the Bodhisattva cry out, “Cursed beast! If you don’t return to your origin now, when will you do so?” Rolling once on the ground, the fiend immediately appeared in his original form. As he shook out his furry coat, the Bodhisattva mounted his back, only to discover with one look that the three bells beneath his collar were nowhere to be seen. “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “return my bells.” “Old Monkey doesn’t know anything about bells!” replied Pilgrim.
“You thievish ape!” snapped the Bodhisattva. “If you hadn’t succeeded in stealing the bells, even ten of you would not be able to approach him. Bring them out quickly!” “But really, I haven’t seen them!” chuckled Pilgrim. “In that case,” said the Bodhisattva, “allow me to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell a little.”
At once alarmed, Pilgrim could only mutter, “Don’t recite! Don’t recite! The bells are her
e!” Thus it is that
From the wolf’s collar who’ll untie the bells?
The one untying asks the one who ties.
After the Bodhisattva had slipped the bells back onto the collar of the wolf, she mounted his back again. Look at him!
Beneath his four legs lotus blossoms grow;
O’er all his body thick golden threads glow.
The Great Compassion went back to South Sea, where we shall leave her.
We tell you instead about the Great Sage Sun, who, having tightened his kilt, wielded the iron rod to fight his way into the Cave of the Mythic Beast and slew all the rest of the fiends. Then he went into the palace to beckon the Lady Golden Sage Palace to return to her country. The lady could not have been more grateful after Pilgrim gave her a thorough account of how the Bodhisattva had brought the fiend to submission and why she had to be separated from her mate. Then Pilgrim found some grass that he tied together to make a straw dragon. “Madam,” he said, “climb on this and close your eyes. Don’t be afraid. I’m taking you back to court to see your lord.” The lady followed his instruction as Pilgrim began to exercise his magic power: all she heard was the sound of the wind.
In the period of half an hour they arrived at the capital. As they dropped from the clouds, he said, “Madam, please open your eyes.” The queen opened her eyes and at once those dragon towers and phoenix bowers, which she readily recognized, gave her immense delight. She abandoned the straw dragon to ascend the treasure hall with Pilgrim. When the king saw her, he hurried down from the dragon couch. Taking the hand of the lady, he wanted to tell her how much he missed her when all of a sudden, he fell to the ground crying, “Oh my hand! It hurts! It hurts!”
Eight Rules broke out in loud guffaws, saying, “O dear! You just don’t have the luck to enjoy her. The moment you see her you are smitten to death!” “Idiot,” said Pilgrim, “you dare give her a tug?” “What’ll happen if I do?” asked Eight Rules.
Pilgrim said, “The lady’s body is covered with poisonous prickles, and her hands are full of vicious stings. Since she reached the Unicorn Mountain these three years, that fiend Jupiter’s Rival has never claimed her body. For the moment he touched her, his body or his hands would be pained.” On hearing this, the various officials exclaimed, “What shall we do?” So the officials outside the court became vexed, and the ladies of the palace, too, were alarmed. Meanwhile, Jade Sage and Silver Sage, the two other consorts, helped the ruler to his feet.
As they stood there in confusion, they heard someone calling out in midair, “Great Sage, I’ve arrived!” Pilgrim raised his head to look, and he heard
Majestic crane cries in the sky,
As someone drifted down to court.
Auspicious radiance encircling;
Creative auras tremulous.
A coir and grass coat wrapped in cloud and mist,
He trod straw sandals rarely seen.
He held a fly-swat of rushes;
A silk sash wound around his waist.
Throughout the world he had formed human ties;
Footloose, he roamed all the great earth.
This was the Great Heaven’s Immortal Purple Cloud,
Bringing salvation this day to earth.9
Going forward to meet him, Pilgrim said, “Zhang Ziyang,10 where are you going?” The Realized Immortal Ziyang went before the court and bowed, saying, “Great Sage, this humble immortal Zhang Boduan raises my hand to salute you.” Returning his bow, Pilgrim said, “Where have you come from?”
The realized immortal said, “Three years ago, I was on my way to a Buddha festival when I passed through this region. When I saw that the king was destined to be separated from his mate, I feared that the fiend might defile the queen and upset the human relations, so that afterwards it would be difficult for the king and queen to be reunited.11 I therefore changed an old coir coat of mine into a new shining robe, radiant in five colors, to present to the fiend king as an addition to the queen’s wardrobe. The moment when she put it on, poisonous prickles sprouted on her body, but actually those prickles were the transformation of the coir coat. Now that I have learned of the Great Sage’s success, I have come to bring deliverance.”
“In that case,” said Pilgrim, “we are indebted to you for coming from such a great distance. Please deliver her, quickly.” The realized immortal walked forward and pointed at the lady with his finger; immediately, the coir coat came off and the lady’s entire body was smooth as before. Shaking out the coat, the realized immortal draped it over himself and said to Pilgrim, “I beg your pardon, Great Sage, for this humble immortal must take leave of you.” “Please wait for a moment,” replied Pilgrim, “and allow the ruler to thank you.” “No need, no need,” said the immortal, laughing. He gave a long bow and rose into the air. The king, the queen, and all the officials were so astonished that they all bowed toward the sky.
Thereafter, the king gave the order for the Eastern Hall to be opened in order that the four priests might be thanked with a huge banquet. After the king led his subjects to kowtow to the pilgrims, he was reunited with his wife. As they drank merrily, Pilgrim said, “Master, take out that declaration of war.” The elder took it out from his sleeve to hand over to Pilgrim, who passed it to the king and said, “This document was to be sent here by a junior officer of the fiend. The officer had been beaten to death by me at first, and I took him here to announce my merit. When I went back to the mountain afterwards, I changed into the form of the officer to get inside the cave. That was how I got to see the lady. After I succeeded in stealing the golden bells, I was almost caught by the fiend. Then I had to undergo transformation to steal the bells again. When he fought with me, it was my fortune that the Bodhisattva Guanyin arrived and brought him to submission. She also told me of the reason why you and your queen had to be separated.” After he gave a thorough account of what had taken place, the king and all his subjects were full of gratitude and praise.
“It was the great good fortune of a worthy ruler in the first place,” said the Tang Monk, “and it was also the merit of our humble disciple. This lavish banquet you have given us is perfection indeed! We must bow to take leave of you now. Do not delay this humble cleric’s journey to the West.” Having failed to persuade the priests to stay longer even with earnest pleading, the king had the rescript certified. Then he asked the Tang Monk to take a seat in the imperial chariot, while he and his consorts pushed it with their own hands to send the pilgrim out of the capital before they parted. Truly,
With affinity, your anxious ailment’s purged;
Without thought or desire your mind’s at peace.
As they go forth, we do not know what sort of good or evil will befall them; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
SEVENTY-TWO
At Cobweb Cave Seven Passions delude the Origin;
At Purgation Spring Eight Rules forgets all manners.
We were telling you about Tripitaka, who took leave of the king of the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom and proceeded westward on his horse. He passed over numerous mountains and forded countless waterways. Soon, autumn departed and even winter faded, and it was again the bright, attractive season of spring. As master and disciples stepped on the green and enjoyed the scenery, they came upon some houses shaded by trees. Rolling over on his saddle, Tripitaka dismounted and stood by the main road. “Master,” asked Pilgrim, “why are you not moving on when this road is so level and smooth?”
“Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “you are quite insensitive! Master must be rather tired of sitting on the horse. You can let him get down to catch his breath a little.” “I’m not trying to catch my breath,” said Tripitaka, “but I see that there’s a household over there. I would like to go and beg some maigre for us to eat.”
“Look at the way Master speaks!” said Pilgrim, smiling. “If you want to eat, I’ll go and do the begging. As the proverb says, ‘Once a teacher, always a father.’ How could the disciples remain seated while t
he master goes to beg for food?” “It’s not like that,” replied Tripitaka. “Usually we look out into the endless horizon, and regardless of how far you have to travel, you go to beg for food. Today, there’s a household nearby, close enough for me to call you if I need help. You should therefore let me go and do the begging.”
“But Master,” said Eight Rules, “you’re not thinking properly. As the proverb says, ‘When three persons go out, the youngest child suffers.’ You belong to the paternal generation, and all of us are your disciples. As an ancient text says, ‘When there’s any hard work to be undertaken, the young must do it.’1 Let old Hog go.” “O disciples,” said Tripitaka, “today the weather’s fair and bright, unlike the times of wind and rain. In those days, you will, of course, do it, even if you have to cover great distances. Let me go now to this household; when I find out whether there’s food or not, we’ll leave.”
“Elder Brothers,” said Sha Monk, smiling on one side, “no need to talk further. Master’s temperament is like that, and you need not contradict him. If you offend him, he won’t eat the food even if you succeed in begging it.” Eight Rules agreed and took out the almsbowl for him. After Tripitaka changed his hat and cloak, he strode up to the village to look around. It was quite a nice dwelling. You see
A stone bridge arching up;
Aged trees thick and neat.
Where the stone bridge arches up,
Gurgling water flows to meet a long brook;
Where aged trees are thick and neat,
The songs of hidden birds reach distant hills.
On the bridge’s other side are a few thatched huts,
Quaint and elegant like an immortal shrine;
There’s also a window o’erlaid with reeds
That make it seem clearly a Daoist home.
Before the window four lovelies appear,
All stitching phoenixes and doing needlework.
When the elder saw that there was no man but only four young women in the house, he dared not enter. He stood still beneath the trees and found that each one of them seemed to have
