by Unknown
When the king heard this meticulous account, he gave voice to loud weeping, so disturbing those in three palaces and six chambers that they arrived to make inquiry. When they learned of the cause, everyone wept profusely. After a long while, the king asked again, “How far is the Gold-Spreading Monastery from the city?”
“No more than sixty miles,” replied Tripitaka.
The king at once issued this decree: “Let the consorts of the East and the West Palaces guard the main hall, while the court’s Grand Preceptor will defend the kingdom. We and the queen herself will take the many officials and the four divine monks to the monastery and bring our princess home.”
Immediately carriages were lined up and they all went out of the court. Look at that Pilgrim! He leaped into the air and, with one twist of his torso, arrived at the monastery before them. The priests there hurriedly knelt down to receive him, saying, “When the Venerable Father left, he walked with the rest of his companions. Why did you descend from the sky today?”
“Where is that old master of yours?” asked Pilgrim, laughing. “Ask him to come out quickly, so that you may set up incense tables to receive the royal carriage. The king and queen of India, along with many officials and my master, are about to arrive.” The various monks could not quite comprehend what he was saying, and they asked the old priest to come out.
When the old priest caught sight of Pilgrim, he bent low and said, “Venerable Father, what have you found out about the princess?” Thereupon Pilgrim gave a thorough rehearsal of how the false princess tossed an embroidered ball to try to wed the Tang Monk, how he fought and chased her, and how Lord Supreme Yin appeared to take away the jade hare. The old priest again kowtowed to express his thanks.
Raising him with his hands, Pilgrim said, “Stop bowing! Stop bowing! Prepare quickly to receive the imperial carriage.” Only then did those priests discover that a girl had been locked up in the back room. In amazement, they all went to help set up incense tables beyond the monastery gate. After putting on the cassocks, they began to toll the bells and roll the drums as they waited. In a little while the imperial carriage did indeed arrive. Truly
Auspicious mists and fragrance fill the sky
When to this rustic temple Grace draws nigh—
Like a timeless rainbow cleansing streams and seas,
Like springtime lightnings of sage kings’ dynasties.
Such kindness the sylvan beauty advances;
Such moisture the wild floral scent enhances.
For relics left by an ancient elder,
This precious hall receives a wise ruler.
The king reached the monastery gate and was met outside by those monks in orderly rows. They all prostrated themselves to receive him. Then he saw Pilgrim standing in their midst.
“How did the divine monk manage to get here first?” asked the king.
“Old Monkey arrived here with a mere twist of his torso!” said Pilgrim, chuckling. “Why did you people take half a day to do it?” Thereafter the Tang Monk and the others arrived. With the elder leading the way, they went to the room at the back of the monastery, where they found the princess still babbling and feigning madness. Going to his knees, the old priest pointed to the room and said, “Inside this room is the lady princess who was blown here last year by the wind.”
The king at once ordered the door opened, and they removed the iron lock from the door. When the king and queen caught sight of the princess and recognized her face, they rushed forward to embrace her, not at all bothered by the filth. “Our poor child!” they cried. “What bitter fate has caused you to suffer like this here!” Truly the reunion of parents and child is not the same as any other kind of reunion. The three of them hugged each other and wailed. After they had cried for a while and had given expression to how greatly they missed each other, the king ordered scented liquid to be sent in for the princess so that she could bathe and change her clothing. They then climbed onto the imperial chariot together to return to the capital.
Afterward Pilgrim greeted the king once more with hands folded in front of him and said, “Old Monkey has another matter to bring to your attention.”
Returning his greeting, the king said, “We shall obey whatever instruction the divine monk has for us.”
Pilgrim said, “They told me that in your mountain here, the one named Hundred-Legs, there are centipedes that have become spirits recently and have harmed people during the night. The travelers and merchants have found that a great inconvenience. Since roosters are the natural foes of centipedes, I think you should select a thousand huge roosters and scatter them throughout the mountain so that these poisonous insects will be eliminated. You should change the name of this mountain also, and you should bestow a building decree to this monastery as a token of your gratitude for this monk’s care for the princess.”
Exceedingly pleased, the king immediately sent officials into the city to fetch the roosters. The name of the mountain was changed to Precious Flower. The Bureau of Labor was told to provide the necessary materials for the repair and renovation of the monastery, and its name was changed to the Royal Benefactor-of-Orphans Gold-Spreading Monastery of the Precious Flower Mountain. The priest was appointed a monk-official, with the perpetual title of Patriotic and an official salary of thirty-six stones. The monks, after giving thanks, saw the imperial carriage return to court, where the princess entered the various palaces to be reunited with her kinfolk. Large banquets were prepared for celebrating her homecoming and reunion with her family. The king and his subjects also joined in the revelry, drinking and feasting all evening.
The next morning the king issued the decree for portraits to be made of the four sage monks and mounted in the Chinese and Barbarian Loft. The princess, with fresh clothing and makeup, was asked to come out to thank the Tang Monk and his three disciples once more for her deliverance. After that, the Tang Monk wanted to take leave of the king to journey westward, but the king, of course, refused to let them go. Again they were feted for five or six days, thus providing excellent opportunities for our Idiot to stuff himself repeatedly.
When the king saw, however, how eager they were in their desire to worship Buddha, rejecting all entreaties for them to stay, he presented them with two hundred ingots of gold and silver and a platter of treasures. Master and disciples refused to take even a penny. The king then ordered the imperial carriage for the old master to ride in and many officials to escort him to a great distance. The queen, the concubines, the officials, and the people all kowtowed without ceasing to express their thanks. When they reached the outskirts of the city, they saw the priests of the temple, too, had come to bow and see them off, reluctant to take leave of the pilgrims. When Pilgrim saw that all the people were unwilling to turn back, he had no choice but to make the magic sign with his fingers and blew a mouthful of immortal breath toward the ground on the southwest. Immediately a gust of dark wind blinded the people’s eyes, and only then could the pilgrims proceed. Truly,
Cleansed by gracious waves to return to revealing cause,8
They left the sea of gold9 to awake to the true void.
We do not know what the journey ahead was like; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
NINETY-SIX
Squire Kou gladly receives a noble priest;
The elder Tang does not covet riches.
The form of forms was first formless;
The void of void, too, was not void.
Hush, noise, speech, and silence the same we deem:
Why speak of dream within a dream?1
The useful is in use useless;
No power empowers power,
Like ripened fruits that redden on their own.
Ask not how they are trimm’d and grown!
We were telling you about the disciple of the Tang Monk, who used his magic power to stop those priests from the Gold-Spreading Monastery. After the dark wind subsided, the priests, no longer able to see the master pilgrim and his disciples, t
hought that they had witnessed the descent of living buddhas. They therefore kowtowed and returned to their own monastery, and we shall speak no more of them.
Master and disciples proceeded toward the West, and once more it was the time of late spring and early summer.
The weather is pleasant and bright
With pond-lotus coming in sight.
Plums ripen after the rains;
Wheat in the wind its height attains.
With their young river swallows fly;
To feed their offspring pheasants cry.
The Dipper’s south, the day’s at its longest;
Fair and gay all things seem strongest.
Countless times they rested at night and dined at dawn, fording the streams and climbing the slopes. On a peaceful road they journeyed for half a month, and then they saw again a city ahead of them.
“Disciples,” asked Tripitaka, “what sort of place is this again?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” replied Pilgrim.
“You have taken this road before,” said Eight Rules, giggling. “How could you say you don’t know? There must be something uncanny about this place. You’re deliberately pretending to be ignorant just to play a trick on us.”
“This Idiot is completely unreasonable!” said Pilgrim. “Though I have traveled several times on this road, I did it in the air. I mounted the clouds to go back and forth. Since when did I ever make a stop on the ground? There was no reason for me to investigate what was of no concern to me. That’s why I am ignorant. There’s nothing uncanny here. Who wants to play a trick on you?”
As they talked, they came up to the edge of the city. Tripitaka dismounted to walk over the drawbridge and enter the gate. In a corridor by a long street, two old men were seated and conversing. “Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “stand out in the middle of the road. Lower your heads and behave yourselves. Let me go up to the corridor to ask what place this is.” Pilgrim and the rest indeed obeyed him and stood still.
The elder drew near, pressed his palms together, and called out, “Old patrons, this humble cleric salutes you.”
Those two old men were just having a leisurely discussion—about the rise and fall, the gains and losses of past dynasties, about who were the sages and worthies, and about the great, lamentable fact that what had once been a heroic enterprise was now reduced to nothing—when they suddenly heard this salutation. They at once returned the greeting and said, “What does the elder wish to say?”
“This humble cleric came from afar to worship Buddha,” said Tripitaka. “Having just reached your treasure region, I do not know its name. I would like to know also where I might find a family inclined to charity, so that I might beg a meal there.”
One of the old men said, “This is the Bronze Estrade Prefecture, behind which is the Numinous Earth District. If the elder wishes to have vegetarian meal, there is no need for you to beg. Go past this archway, and on the street running north and south, you’ll come to a towered-gate facing east guarded by figures of sitting tigers. This is the home of Squire Kou; before his door there’s also a plaque with the inscription, Ten Thousand Monks Will Not Be Barred. A distant traveler like you can enjoy all you want. Go! Go! Go! And don’t interrupt our conversation!”
Having thanked them, Tripitaka turned and said to Pilgrim, “This is the Numinous Earth District of the Bronze Estrade Prefecture. The two old men told me that beyond the archway on the street running north and south, there is a tiger-guarded towered gate facing east. That’s the home of Squire Kou, where before the door there is a plaque bearing the inscription, Ten Thousand Monks Will Not Be Barred. They told us to go to that household to have a meal.”
“The region of the West,” said Sha Monk, “is the land of Buddha, so there must be people who wish to feed the monks. If this is only a district or a prefecture, there’s no need for us to have our rescript certified. Let’s go beg some food, and we can leave after the meal.”
As the elder walked slowly through the long street with his three followers, they aroused again such alarm and suspicion of those people in the markets that they all crowded around the pilgrims to stare at their features. Telling his disciples to remain silent, the elder kept saying, “Behave yourselves! Behave yourselves!” The three of them indeed lowered their heads and dared not look up. After they turned a corner, they came upon a broad street running north and south.
As they walked along, they saw a tiger-guarded towered-gate, on the other side of which there was hung on the wall a huge plaque with the inscription, Ten Thousand Monks Will Not Be Barred. “In this Buddha land of the West,” said Tripitaka, “there’s no deception in either the foolish or the wise. I was not prepared to believe what the two aged men told me, but what I see here confirms their story.”
Always rude and impulsive, Eight Rules wanted to go in at once. Pilgrim said, “Idiot, let’s stop a moment. Wait till someone comes out. When we have obtained permission, then you may enter.”
“What Big Brother says is quite right,” said Sha Monk. “If we do not observe proper etiquette, we may offend the patron.” They rested the horse and the luggage before the gate. In a little while, an old retainer appeared, carrying in his hands a scale and a basket. When he suddenly caught sight of the four, he was so startled that he abandoned his possessions and ran inside to report, “My lord, there are four strange-looking priests outside!”
The squire, leaning on his staff, was just taking a leisurely stroll in the courtyard, chanting repeatedly the name of Buddha. The moment he heard this report, he threw away his staff and hurried out to receive his visitors. When he saw the four pilgrims, he was not intimidated by their ugliness. All he said was, “Please come in! Please come in!”
With modesty Tripitaka entered with his disciples. After going through a little alley, the squire led them to a building and said, “This building houses the Buddha hall, the sūtra hall, and the dining hall, which will entertain the Venerable Fathers. The building to the left is where this disciple and his family live.” Tripitaka was full of compliments as he put on his cassock to worship Buddha. They ascended the hall to look around, and they saw
Fragrant clouds of incense,
And bright flames of candles;
A hall filled with bundles of silk and flowers,
Four corners festooned with gilt and colors.
On a vermilion prop
A bell of purple gold hangs high;
On colored lacquered frames
A pair of patterned drums are mounted.
A few pairs of banners
All embroidered with the eight jewels;
A thousand Buddhas
All gilded in gold.
An old bronze censer,
And an old bronze vase;
A carved lacquered table,
And a carved lacquered box.
From the old bronze censer
Arise unending curls of smoky fragrance;
Within the old bronze vase
Now and then the lotus displays its colors.
Five-colored clouds2 fresh on the carved lacquered table;
Mounds of scented petals in the carved lacquered box.
In a crystal chalice,
The holy water’s clear and clean;
In a lamp of glass,
The fragrant oil burns brightly.
The gold stone-chime’s one note
Lingers and resonates.
Truly unsoiled by red dust in this precious tower,
A household Buddha-hall nobler than a temple.
Having purified his hands, the elder took up incense to kowtow and worship. Then he turned to go through the proper ceremony of greeting the squire, who said, however, “Just a moment! We shall do that in the sūtra room.” There they saw
Square and erect cases—
Jade and gold boxes—
In square and erect cases
Countless volumes of sūtra pile up;
In jade and gold boxes
Many notes a
nd letters are collected.
On the colored lacquered table
Are paper, ink, brush, and inkstone—
All exquisite items of the study.
Before the pepper-dusted screens
Are books, paintings, a psaltery, and chess—
All marvelous objects of real pleasure.
A divine stone-chime of jade o’erlaid with gold is placed there;
A grapevine mat that shields the moon and wind is hung there.
The pure air makes one don a cheerful air;
A chaste mind sets free the mind of Dao.
Having reached the place, the elder was about to go through the ceremony when he was stopped again by the squire, saying, “Please take off your Buddha robe.” Tripitaka doffed his cassock, and only then was he allowed to give his host the proper greeting. Then the squire also exchanged greetings with Pilgrim and his two brothers. He asked his servants to feed the horse and to place the luggage in the corridor. Only then did he inquire about the pilgrims’ origin.
