by Unknown
He then dismissed the local spirit before returning to face the king in the royal hall, accompanied by the Aged Star leading the deer and Eight Rules dragging the dead vixen. Pilgrim said to the king, “Here’s your Queen Beauty! You want to dally with her some more?” The bladder of the king quivered and his heart shook, and then his queens and consorts were all frightened into bowing by the sight of the Aged Star leading the white deer. Pilgrim went forward to raise up the king, saying to him with a chuckle, “Don’t bow to me. Here’s your father-in-law. You should bow to him!”
Terribly embarrassed, the king could only murmur, “I thank the divine monk’s Heavenly grace for saving the boys of my nation.” He at once ordered the Court of Imperial Entertainments to prepare a huge vegetarian banquet. The East Hall was opened wide so that the Old Man of South Pole, the Tang Monk, and his three disciples could be seated to receive proper thanks. After Tripitaka and Sha Monk bowed to greet the Aged Star, they both asked, “If the white deer belonged to the Venerable Aged Star, how could it get here to harm people?”
The Aged Star answered, smiling, “Sometime ago the Supreme Ruler of the East7 passed by my mountain, and I asked him to stay for chess. Hardly had we finished one game when this cursed beast ran away. When we couldn’t find him after the guest’s departure, I calculated by bending my fingers and realized that he had come to this place. I came to search for him and ran into the Great Sage just in the process of demonstrating his power. If I had come a little later, this beast would have been finished.” Hardly had he spoken when the report came that the banquet was ready. Marvelous vegetarian banquet!
The doorways decked with five colors;
The seats full of strange fragrance;
Tables draped with glowing brocade damask;
Floors spread with luminous red carpets.
From duck-shaped urns
Curled smoke of sandalwood incense;
Before the royal table
Came the fresh scent of vegetables.
Look at the fruit crouque-en-bouche on the dish,
The sweet pastries shaped like dragons or beasts.
Mandarin-duck cakes
And lion candies
All looked so real;
The parrot goblet
And the egret handle
All seemed lifelike.
Every fruit item on display was rich;
Every maigre dish on the table was fine.
Robustly round chestnuts,
Fresh lychees and peaches;
Dates and persimmons with the sweetest flavor;
Pine-seed and grape wines of the mellowest scent.
Several kinds of honey-glazed food
And a few steamed pastries.
Viands deep-fried or sugar-coated,
Made like blossoms or brocade.
Huge buns piled high on golden trays;
Fragrant rice filled many silver bowls.
Hot and spicy—the long rice noodles cooked in soup;
Potently scented—one bowl or dish after another.
You could not describe all the mushrooms,
The wood ears, the tender shoots, the Yellow Sperms;
Vegetables of ten varieties
And a hundred rare delicacies.
Presented back and forth without a pause
Were all kinds, all species of rich fare.
At the time, they took their seats according to rank: the Aged Star occupied the head table, while the elder remained next to him. The king went to the table in front, and Pilgrim, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk sat on one side. There were three other chief ministers on both sides to keep them company. As the Office of Music was told to begin the serenade, the king held up his purple-mist cup to toast each person in turn, though the Tang Monk was the only one who did not drink. Eight Rules then said to Pilgrim, “Elder Brother, I’ll leave the fruits to you, but you must let us enjoy rice, soup, and the rest.” Without regard for good or ill, that Idiot attacked the foodstuff madly and ate it up in no time at all.
After the banquet was over, the Aged Star got up to leave, but the king went forward to kneel to him to beg for a method that would eliminate illness and lengthen his years. With a smile the Aged Star said, “I was looking for my deer and I didn’t bring along any elixir or herbs. I would have liked to impart to you the formula for cultivation, but your tendons have so deteriorated and your spirit has been so impaired that it would be impossible for you to accomplish the reversion of the elixir.8 In my sleeve here, however, are three fire dates which were the presents of the Supreme Ruler of the East for my tea. I haven’t eaten them yet, and I would like to give them to you now.” After the king had swallowed the dates, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted gradually from his body as his illness receded. In fact, the longevity those descendants of his later attained might be traced to this.
When Eight Rules saw that the king had received such a gift, he cried out, “Old Age, if you have any more fire dates, give me some, too.” “I haven’t brought any more along,” replied the Aged Star. “Another day I’ll send you a few pounds.” He walked out of the East Hall, and having thanked his host once more, he ordered the white deer to stand up and leaped onto its back. They both rose immediately into the air and left treading on the clouds. The ruler, his consorts, and the populace of the city all bowed to the ground and burned incense.
Then Tripitaka said, “Disciples, start packing so that we may take leave of the king.” The king, however, begged them to stay and instruct him. “Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, “from now on you must lessen your sensual pursuits and increase instead your unpublicized good deeds. In all affairs you should allow your strength to compensate for your weakness, and you will find that this is quite sufficient to stave off sickness and lengthen your life. Such is the instruction I have for you.” Thereafter the king also presented them with two trays of gold and silver pieces as travel money, but the Tang Monk refused to accept even a penny. The king had no alternative but to send for his imperial cortege and asked the Tang Monk to be seated on the phoenix carriage in the dragon chariot. He and his consorts all put their hands on the carriage and pushed it out of the court. At the same time, all the main boulevards were lined with citizens who added pure water to their sacrificial vases and true incense in the urns to send the pilgrims out of the city.
Just then, a roar of the wind from midair brought down to both sides of the road one thousand, one hundred and eleven geese coops with some crying young boys inside. The local spirit, city god, god of the soil, immortal officials, the Guardians of Five Quarters, the Four Sentinels, the Six Gods of Darkness and Six Gods of Light, and the guardians of monasteries who gave secret protection to the children all announced in a loud voice: “Great Sage, you told us previously to take away these boys in the geese coops. Now that your merit has been achieved and you are about to leave, we have brought them back one by one.” The king, the queens, and all the citizens bowed down as Pilgrim said to the air, “I thank you all for your help. Please return to your shrines, and I will ask the people to offer you their thanksgiving sacrifices.” Sighing and soughing, the gust of cold wind rose once more and then quickly subsided.
When Pilgrim then asked the households of the city to come retrieve their children, the news was spread abroad at once and all the people came to identify and claim the boys in the coops. In great delight they were lifted out of the cages, hugged, and addressed as “darling” and “precious.” Jumping about and laughing, the people all shouted, “We must take hold of the Holy Fathers of the Tang court and bring them back to our homes. We must thank them for this profound act of kindness!” And so the people went forward, young and old, male and female, without the slightest fear of how ugly the pilgrims might look: they hauled Zhu Eight Rules up bodily, they put Sha Monk on their shoulders, they supported the Great Sage Sun with their heads, and they lifted up Tripitaka with their hands. Leading the horse and toting the luggage, they surged back to the city; not even the king could restrain them.<
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While one family gave a banquet, another prepared a feast; those who did not have time to take their turns made priestly caps and sandals, clerical robes and cloth stockings, and all manner of inner and outer garments to be presented as gifts. Indeed, the pilgrims had to linger for nearly a month in that city before they could leave. Before their departure, the people also made portraits of them, with their names inscribed on plaques below the pictures, so that perpetual sacrifices and incense could be offered. Truly it was that
This secret good deed weighty as a mount
Has saved a hundred and a thousand lives.
We do not know what happened thereafter; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
EIGHTY
The fair girl, nursing the yang, seeks a mate;
Mind Monkey, guarding his master, knows a monster.
We were telling you about the Bhikṣu king who, along with his subjects, escorted the Tang Monk and his disciples out of the city; they journeyed for some twenty miles and still the king refused to turn back. At last Tripitaka insisted on leaving the imperial chariot and mounted the horse to take leave of the escorts, who waited until the pilgrims were out of sight before returning to their own city.
The four pilgrims traveled for some time until both winter and spring faded; there was no end to the sight of wildflowers and mountain trees, of lovely and luxuriant scenery. Then they saw in front of them a tall, rugged mountain. Growing alarmed, Tripitaka asked, “Disciples, is there any road on that tall mountain ahead? We must be careful!”
“Your words, Master,” said Pilgrim with a laugh, “hardly sound like those of a seasoned traveler! They seem more like those of a prince or nobleman who sits in a well and stares at the sky. As the ancient proverb says,
A mountain does not block a road,
For a road passes through a mountain.
Why ask about whether there is any road or not?”
“Perhaps the mountain does not block the road,” replied Tripitaka, “but I fear that such a treacherous region will breed some fiends, or that monster-spirits will emerge from the depth of the mountain.” “Relax! Relax!” said Eight Rules. “This place is probably not too far from the region of ultimate bliss, and it’s bound to be peaceful and safe.”
As master and disciples were thus conversing, they soon reached the base of the mountain. Taking out his golden-hooped rod, Pilgrim went up a rocky ledge and called out: “Master, this is the way to go around the mountain. It’s quite walkable. Come quickly! Come quickly!” The elder had little choice but to banish his worry and urge the horse forward. “Second Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “you tote the luggage for awhile.” Eight Rules accordingly took over the pole while Sha Monk held on to the reins so that the old master could sit firmly on the carved saddle and follow Pilgrim on the main road as they headed for the mountain. What they saw on the mountain were
Cloud and mist shrouding the summit
And rushing torrent in the brook;
Fragrant flowers clogging the road;
Ten thousand trees both thick and dense;
Blue plums and white pears;
Green willows and red peaches.
The cuckoo weeps for spring’s about to leave,
And swallows murmur to end the seedtime rites.1
Rugged rocks;
Jade-top pines;
A rough mountain path,
Bumpy and jagged;
Precipitous hanging cliffs
With thickets of creepers and plants.
A thousand peaks noble like halberd rows;
Through countless ravines a grand river flows.
As the old master looked leisurely at this mountain scenery, the sound of a bird singing filled him again with longing for home. He pulled the horse to a stop and called out, “Disciples!
Since Heaven’s plaque2 conveyed the royal decree,
The rescript I took beneath brocaded screens.
At Lantern Feast, the fifteenth, I left the East,
From Emperor Tang parted as Heav’n from Earth.
Just when dragons, tigers met with wind and cloud,
Master and pupils fell to horses and men.
On all twelve summits of Mount Wu I’ve walked.
When can I face my lord and see my king?”
“Master,” said Pilgrim, “you are always so full of longing for home that you are hardly like someone who has left home. Just relax and keep moving! Stop worrying so much! As the ancients said,
If wealth in life you wish to see,
Deadly earnest your work must be.”
Tripitaka said, “What you say is quite right, disciple, but I wonder how much more there is of this road that leads to the Western Heaven!”
“Master,” Eight Rules said, “it must be that our Buddha Tathāgata is unwilling to part with those three baskets of scriptures. Knowing that we want to acquire them, he must have moved. If not, why is it that we just can’t reach our destination?” “Stop that foolish talk!” said Sha Monk. “Just follow Big Brother. Exert yourself and endure it. There’ll be a day when we all arrive at our destination.”
As master and disciples chatted in this manner, they came upon a huge, dark pine forest. Becoming frightened, the Tang Monk called out once more, “Wukong, we’ve just passed through a rugged mountain path. Why is it that we must face this deep, dark pine forest? We must be on guard.”
“What’s there to be afraid of?” asked Pilgrim. Tripitaka replied, “Stop talking like that! As the proverb says,
You don’t believe the honesty of the honest;
You guard against the unkindness of the kind.
You and I have gone through several pine forests, but none was as deep and wide as this one. Just look at it!
Densely spread out east and west—
In thick columns north and south—
Densely spread out east and west it pierces the clouds;
In thick columns north and south it invades the sky.
Lush thistles and thorns are growing on all sides;
Creepers and weeds wind up and down the trunks.
The vines entwine the tendrils—
The tendrils entwine the vines—
The vines entwine the tendrils
To impede the east-west traveler;
The tendrils entwine the vines
To block the north-south trader.
In this forest
One may spend half a year
Not knowing the seasons,
Or walk a few miles
Without seeing the stars.
Look at those thousand kinds of scenery on the shady side
And ten thousand bouquets in the sunny part.
There are also the millennial locust tree,
The immortal juniper,
The cold-enduring pine,
The mountain peach,
The wild peony,
The dry-land hibiscus—
In layers and clumps they pile together,
So riotous that e’en gods can’t portray them.
You hear also a hundred birds:
The parrot’s squeal;
The cuckoo’s wail;
The magpie darting through the branches;
The crow feeding her parents;
The oriole soaring and dancing;
A hundred tongues making melody;
A call of red partridges,
And the speech of purple swallows.
The mynah learns to speak like a human;
Even the grey thrush can read a sūtra.
You see, too, a big creature3 wagging its tail
And a tiger grinding its teeth;
An aged fox disguised as a lady,
An old grey wolf growling through the woods.
Even if the devarāja Pagoda-Bearer comes here,
He’ll lose his wits though he can subdue a monster!”
Not daunted in the least, however, our Great Sage Sun used his iron rod to open up a wide path and led the Tang Monk deep into
the forest. Footloose and carefree, they proceeded for half a day but they had yet to reach the road leading out of the forest.
The Tang Monk called out: “Disciples, our journey to the West has taken us through countless mountains and forests, all rather treacherous. This particular spot, I’m glad to say, is quite nice and the road seems safe enough. The strange flowers and rare plants of this forest are certainly pleasing to behold. I want to sit for a while here—to rest the horse and to relieve my hunger—if you can go somewhere to beg us a vegetarian meal.” “Please dismount, Master,” said Pilgrim, “and I’ll go beg the meal.”
That elder indeed dismounted; as Eight Rules tethered the horse to a tree, Sha Monk put down his load of luggage and took out the alms-bowl to hand to Pilgrim. “Master,” said Pilgrim, “you may feel quite safe sitting here. Don’t be frightened. Old Monkey will return shortly.” While Tripitaka sat solemnly in the pine shade, Eight Rules and Sha Monk amused themselves by going off to search for flowers and fruits.
We tell you now about our Great Sage, who somersaulted into midair. As he paused in his cloudy luminosity to look back, he saw that the pine forest was veiled by hallowed clouds and auspicious mists. So moved was he by the sight that he unwittingly blurted out, “Marvelous! Marvelous!”
Why did he say that, you ask? He was giving praise to the Tang Monk, you see, and recalling to himself the fact that his master was verily the incarnation of the Elder Gold Cicada, a good man who has practiced austerities for ten incarnations. That was why his head was surrounded by such an auspicious halo. “Consider old Monkey,” he thought to himself. “At the time when I brought great disturbance to the Celestial Palace five hundred years ago, I toured with the clouds the four corners of the sea and roamed freely the edges of Heaven. I assembled various monster-spirits to call myself the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven; taming the tiger and subduing the dragon, I even removed our names from the register of death. My head wore a triple-decker gold crown, and my body a yellow gold cuirass; my hands held the golden-hooped rod and my feet were shod in cloud-treading shoes. Some forty-seven thousand fiends under my command all addressed me as Venerable Father Great Sage, and that was some life I led. Now that I’m delivered from my Heaven-sent calamity, I must humble myself and serve this man as his disciple. But if my master’s head has the protection of such hallowed clouds and auspicious mists, he will, I suppose, end up with something good once he returns to the Land of the East, and old Monkey undoubtedly will also attain the right fruit.”
