by Unknown
In the meantime, the ironsmiths had finished forging the three weapons. As they kowtowed to Pilgrim, they said, “Holy Father, our work is done.”
“What’s the weight of each of the weapons?” asked Pilgrim.
“The golden-hooped rod weighs a thousand pounds,” replied one of the ironsmiths. “The nine-pronged rake and the fiend-routing staff both weigh eight hundred pounds.” “All right,” said Pilgrim, and he asked the three princes to come out and pick up their weapons.
“Father Prince,” said the three princes to the old prince, “today the weapons are perfected.” “Because of them,” said the old prince, “my sons and I almost lost our lives.” “It was fortunate that the divine master did exercise his magic to have us rescued,” said the young princes, “and to have the monstrous deviates dispersed. With all evil consequences removed, we may truly expect a peaceful world of calm seas and clear rivers.” At once the old prince rewarded the ironsmiths; then father and sons went to the Gauze-Drying Pavilion to thank the masters.
In order that their journey would not be delayed, Tripitaka urged Pilgrim and his companions to hasten in giving lessons in martial arts to the princes. Right in the palace courtyard, therefore, each of the brothers wielded his weapon and began instructing the princes one by one. In a few days those three princes became thoroughly familiar with their drills and exercises. All the methods of offense and defense, fast and slow, indeed all seventy-two styles of movement that belonged to each weapon were mastered. The three princes, after all, were most determined to learn, and, moreover, the Great Sage Sun had endowed them with divine strength. For this reason they could now raise and move a thousand-pound rod or an eight-hundred-pound muckrake. Compared with the martial arts they formerly practiced by themselves, this was something else indeed! We have a testimonial poem, which says:
Good luck for them has three teachers convened.
Why should martial arts bestir a lion fiend?
The empire’s safe when perverts are wiped out;
They yield to One Body and pariahs6 rout.
Nine7 fits the principle of primal yang;
From all perfection the Dao truly sprang.
A mind informed these teachings e’er release
And grant Jade-Flower lasting joy and peace.
Once more the princes gave a huge banquet to thank their teachers for the instruction. A large platter of silver and gold was also presented as token of their gratitude.
“Take it away! Quickly!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “We are people who have left home. What do we need it for?”
Eight Rules, sitting to one side, said, “We really can’t take the gold and silver. But this robe of mine has been torn almost to shreds by those lion-spirits. If you could provide us with a change of clothing, it would be received as a token of your great love for us.” The princes at once asked the tailors to take several bales of blue silk, red silk, and brown silk and, following the styles and colors of what the priests were wearing, make three suits of clothing. The three pilgrims gladly received their gifts and put on their new cassocks of silk before packing to leave.
At this time there was not a single person in and out of the city who did not address them as incarnate arhats or living buddhas. All the streets were filled with the sounds of drums and music and clogged with the colors of banners and pennants. Truly
Outside each household the incense fires burned;
Before each door colorful lanterns turned.
Only after escorting the pilgrims a long distance would the people permit the four of them to resume their journey toward the West. Their departure signaled their escape from the various lions and their devotion to attaining the right fruit. Truly
Without a worry they’d reach Buddha’s realm
And, with hearts unfeigned, ascend Thunderclap.
We do not know, however, how great a distance remains for them to reach Spirit Mountain, or when they will arrive; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
NINETY-ONE
At Gold-Level Prefecture they watch lanterns on the fifteenth night;
In Mysterious Flower Cave the Tang Monk makes a deposition.
How should one strive in the practice of Chan?
Cut off quickly the wily horse and ape.
Five colors grow when they are firmly bound;
A moment’s stop will land you on Three Ways.1
If the sovereign elixir’s caused to leak,
Jade nature dries up for such sloth and slack.
Joy, wrath, care, and thought must be swept clean:
Wondrous mystery is gained like nothing seen.2
We were just telling you about the Tang Monk and his three disciples, who left the Jade-Flower City and proceeded along a path safe and sound. In truth the region befitted the name of Ultimate Bliss. After five or six days, they again caught sight of a city.
“What sort of a place is this again?” the Tang Monk asked Pilgrim.
“It’s a city,” replied Pilgrim, “but the flagpole on the rampart has no pennant. We can’t tell the name of this region. Let’s wait till we get near, and ask.”
When they reached the suburb outside the eastern gate, they saw bustling teahouses and wine shops on both sides of the street, and flourishing rice markets and oil stores. On the streets there were a few vagabonds; when they saw the long snout of Zhu Eight Rules, the gloomy countenance of Sha Monk, and the red-rimmed eyes of Pilgrim Sun, they had the travelers surrounded. Struggling to get a closer look at these strange visitors, they nonetheless did not have the courage to question them. The Tang Monk was so nervous that he was, as it were, clinging onto his own sweat, for he feared that his disciples might cause trouble. They walked past several more alley entrances, but still they had not reached the city. It was then that they came upon the gate of a monastery with this inscription: Mercy Cloud Temple.
“How about going in there to rest the horse,” said the Tang Monk, “and beg for a meal?” “Good! Good!” replied Pilgrim, and the four of them all walked in. They saw
Noble treasure towers,
Soaring bejeweled thrones,
A Buddha alcove above the clouds
And priestly chambers within the moon.3
Misty red swirls about tall pagodas;
Dark green trees enshroud clean praying-wheels.
A true pure land,
A false dragon palace,
A Great Hero Hall encased in purple cloud.
Along two porches endless visitors play;
Guests climb a stūpa that’s often open.
Incense in the censers is e’er ablaze;
Fragrant lamps nightly on the platforms glow.
When the golden bell’s heard from the abbot hall,
Monks in service to Buddha will sūtras recite.
As the four of them looked at the place, they caught sight of a priest walking out from one of the corridors. “Master, where did you come from?” he saluted the Tang Monk.
“This disciple happens to be someone who came from the Tang court of China,” replied the Tang Monk. At once the monk fell on his knees to make a bow, so startling the Tang Monk that he hurriedly tried to raise him with his hands. “Abbot,” he asked, “why do you honor me with such a grand ceremony?”
Pressing his palms together in front of him, the monk said, “When those people inclined to virtue at our region study the sūtras and chant the name of Buddha, their ardent hope invariably is to find incarnation at your land of China. Just now when I beheld the bearing and clothing of the venerable master, I realized at once that only the cultivation of a previous life could provide you with such noble endowment. It is fitting, therefore, for me to kneel and bow to you.”
“I’m terribly embarrassed!” said the Tang Monk with a smile. “This disciple is but a mendicant. What endowment could he claim? The abbot here is able to enjoy a quiet and comfortable existence. That’s true blessing!”
The monk thereupon led the Tang Monk to the main hall to
worship the images of Buddha. Only after that did the Tang Monk summon his disciples to enter. Pilgrim and his two companions, you see, had been standing with their faces turned away to watch the horse and luggage since their master had begun conversing with the priest. The priest thus did not pay them much attention. Not until they heard their master calling, “Disciples!” did they turn around. When the priest saw them, he was so aghast that he cried, “O Holy Father! Why is it that your noble disciples are so ugly?”
“Though they may be ugly,” replied the Tang Monk, “they do possess considerable magic power. Throughout our journey I have been quite dependent on their protection.”
As they chatted, several more priests walked out to salute them. The one who appeared previously said to the ones who just arrived, “This master is a person who came from the Great Tang of China. These three are his noble disciples.” Both pleased and alarmed, the monks said, “Master, why did you come here from your great nation of China?”
“By the sage decree of our Tang emperor,” declared the Tang Monk, “I am seeking scriptures from the Buddha at Spirit Mountain. Passing through your treasure region, I have come especially to your superior temple, merely to inquire about the place and to beg for a meal. Thereafter we shall leave.”
Each one of those monks was delighted. They invited the pilgrims into the abbot’s quarters, where there were several more priests conducting business with some donors of a vegetarian feast. One of those monks who walked in first cried, “All of you come and look at people from China. Now we know there are both handsome people and ugly people in China. The handsome is too handsome to be sketched or painted, but the ugly ones are exceedingly bizarre.”
Many of those monks and feast donors came to greet them. They then took their seats, and, after tea, the Tang Monk asked, “What is the name of your honored region?”
“Our is the outer prefecture of the Kingdom of India,” replied one of the monks, “the Gold-Level Prefecture.”
“How far is it from your honored prefecture to the Spirit Mountain?” asked the Tang Monk.
“It is about two thousand miles from here to the capital,” said the monk, “and this is a journey we ourselves have taken before. But we have never gone westward to the Spirit Mountain, and, not knowing the distance, we dare not offer you a fraudulent reply.” The Tang Monk thanked him.
In a little while, they brought out a vegetarian meal, after which, the Tang Monk wanted to leave. He was, however, detained by the donors and the monks, who said to him, “Please feel free to stay for a couple of days, Venerable Master. Enjoy yourself till we have passed the Lantern Festival. Then you may go.”
Somewhat taken aback, the Tang Monk said, “All this disciple knows on the road is that there are mountains and waters. What I fear most is running into fiends and demons. I have quite lost track of time. When is the fine Lantern Festival?”
Smiling, one of the monks said, “The venerable master is preoccupied with the worship of Buddha and the realization of Chan, and that is why you have no concept of time. Today happens to be the thirteenth of the first month. By night the people will be trying out the lanterns. The day after tomorrow is the fifteenth proper. We don’t put away the lanterns until the eighteenth or nineteenth. The households of our region here are quite active and fond of excitement. Moreover, our prefect holds the people in great affection. So lanterns and lights will be set up high all over the place, and there’ll be music all night long. We have also a Golden-Lamp Bridge, a relic of antiquity but still a prosperous site. Let the venerable fathers stay here for a few days. Our humble monastery can certainly take care of you.” The Tang Monk had no choice but to remain.
That night a great salvo of drums and bells could be heard coming from the main hall of Buddha when the faithful and the local residents arrived with their gifts and votive lanterns for Buddha. The Tang Monk and his companions all left the abbot’s quarters to watch these lanterns before retiring. The next day temple priests brought in more food. When they had finished eating, they took a stroll together through the rear garden. A fine place indeed!
The time is the first month;
The season, a new spring.
A fine, wooded garden
Of charms luxuriant.
Rare blooms and plants of four seasons;
Rows upon rows of summits.4
Before the steps lovely grasses stir;
On old plum boughs fragrance rises.
The red enters young peach blossoms;
The green returns to fresh willows.
Boast not of Gold-Valley’s5 opulence
Speak not of Felloe-Spring’s6 soft breezes.
Here’s one flowing stream
Where wild ducks appear now and then;
We have a thousand bamboos planted
On which the writers make no end of verses.
The peony,
The tree-peony,
The crape flower,
The magnolia—
Their natures have just awakened.
The camelia,
The red plum,
The jasmine,
The most fragrant plant7
They first display their glamour.
Though snow left on shady ledges retains its chill,
Distant trees with mist afloat are brushed with spring.
You see, too, deer glancing at their pond-reflections
And cranes listening to strings beneath the pines.
A few buildings to the east,
A few buildings to the west,
Where guests may come to stay;
A few halls to the south,
A few stūpas to the north,
Where monks in silence meditate.
In the midst of flowers
There are a couple of towers for cultivation,
Their double eaves curving high up;
Amid hills and streams
Are three or four demon-smelting rooms
With neat tables and bright lattices.
Truly a natural place of reclusion,
There’s no need to look elsewhere for Peng and Ying.
After enjoying the garden for a day, master and disciples also looked at the lanterns in the halls before going to watch the lantern shows. What they saw were
Cornelian floral cities,
Glass immortal-caves,
Palaces of crystal and mother-of-pearl
Like layers of brocade
And tiers of openwork carvings.
As the star-bridge sways and the cosmos moves,
See how a few flaming trees waver.
Pipes and drums along the six streets,
A bright moon atop a thousand doors,
And scented breeze from all households.
Here and there scorpaenid humps rear up;
There are dragons leaving the ocean
And phoenixes soaring.
Admire both lamplight and moonlight—
What harmonious blend!
Those troops of satin and silk
All enjoy the sounds of pipe and song;
Atop both chariots and horses
There is no end of flower and jadelike faces,
Or of gallant knights,
Or of lovely scenes.
After Tripitaka and the monks had watched the lanterns in the monastery, they also took to the streets of the suburb by the east gate to see the sights. Not until the time of the second watch did they turn back to retire.
The next day the Tang Monk said to the priests, “This disciple once made a vow8 to sweep a pagoda whenever I came upon a pagoda. Since this day is the fine festival of the first full moon, let me request the abbot to open the pagoda for me to fulfill my vow.” The priests accordingly opened the door, as Sha Monk took out the cassock to attend to the Tang Monk. When they reached the first level, the elder put on the cassock to worship Buddha and say prayers. Thereafter he swept out that level with a broom before taking off the cassock to hand back to Sha Monk. He then swept clean the second level a
nd went through each one in that manner until he reached the very top. On each level of that pagoda, you see, there were images of Buddha and open windows. When one level was swept clean, the Tang Monk and his companions would remain a while to enjoy and commend the scenery. By the time the work was done, and they descended from the pagoda, it was already late, and lamps had to be lit.
This was the night of the fifteenth, the first full moon. “Venerable Master,” said the priests, “we have been watching the lanterns with you these last two nights in our monastery and in the suburb. Tonight is the festival proper. How about going into the city with us to watch the lanterns there?” In delight the Tang Monk agreed. With the monks of the monastery, he and his three disciples all entered the city. Truly it is
Fifteenth, a lovely night and feast;
Spring hues blend with the first full moon.
Floral lights o’erhang busy shops
As people sing the songs of peace.
You see only bright lights in the six streets and three marts
When a mirror rises in midair.
The moon seems like a silver dish the River God pushed up;
The lights look like brocade carpets woven by divine maidens.
The lights in moonlight
Add one measure of light;
The moon shines on the lights,
Enhancing their brilliance.
There are countless iron chains and star-bridges to see,
And endless lamp wicks and flaming torches to watch.
The snowflake lantern
And the plum-flower lantern
Seem to be chiseled from spring ice.
The silk-screen lantern
And the painted-screen lantern
Are constructed with five colors.
The walnut lantern
