The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (49 page)

    
Eyes like large goblets of glass;

    
A head like a cooking vat;

    
A body of deep summer green;

    
And four paws like autumn’s frost;

    
Two large ears that flipped downward;

    
A tail as long as a broom;

    
Green hair full of fighting ardor;

    
Red eyes emitting gold beams;

    
Rows of flat teeth like jade slabs;

    
Round whiskers rearing up like spears.

    
The true form seen in the mirror

    
Was Mañjuśrī’s lion king.

“Bodhisattva,” said Pilgrim, “so this is the green-haired lion who serves as your beast of burden. How was it that he had been turned loose so that he could become a spirit here? Aren’t you going to make him submit to you?” “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “he was not turned loose. He had been sent by the decree of Buddha to come here.” Pilgrim said, “You mean that this beast’s becoming a spirit to usurp the throne of a king was a decree of Buddha? If that’s the case, old Monkey, who is accompanying the Tang Monk through all his trials, should have been given several imperial documents!”

The Bodhisattva said, “You don’t know that this king of the Black Rooster Kingdom was dedicated to virtue and to the feeding of monks at first. The Buddha sent me to lead him to return to the West so that he could attain the golden body of an arhat. I could not, of course, reveal myself to him in my true form, and so I changed myself into an ordinary mortal monk to
beg
some food from him. During our conversation a few words of mine put him on the spot; not realizing that I was a good man after all, he tied me up with a rope and sent me into the imperial moat. I soaked in there for three days and nights before the Six Gods of Darkness rescued me back to the West. Tathāgata therefore sent this creature here to push him down the well and have him submerged for three years, in order to exact vengeance for my water adversity of three days. Thus ‘not even a sup or a bite is not foreordained,’ and we had to wait for all of you to arrive and achieve this merit.”

“You might have repaid the private grievance of your so-called one sup or one bite,” said Pilgrim, “but who knows how many human beings that fiendish creature has harmed.” “He has not,” said the Bodhisattva. “In fact, these three years after his arrival have seen nothing but winds and rains in season, prosperity for the kingdom, and peace for the inhabitants. Since when has he harmed anyone?”

“Even so,” said Pilgrim, “those ladies of the three palaces did sleep with him and rise with him. His body has defiled many and violated the great human relations countless times. And you say that he has not harmed anyone?” The Bodhisattva said, “He has not defiled anyone, for he’s a gelded lion.” When Eight Rules heard this, he walked near and gave the creature a pat, saying with a chuckle, “This monster-spirit is truly a ‘red nose who doesn’t drink’! He bears his name in vain!”

“All right,” said Pilgrim, “take him away. If the Bodhisattva did not come here himself, I would never have spared his life.” Reciting a spell, the Bodhisattva shouted, “Beast, how long are you going to wait before you submit to the Right?” The demon king at once changed back to his original form, after which the Bodhisattva released the lotus flower seat to be placed on the back of the lion. He then mounted the lion, who trod on the auspicious luminosity and left. Aha!

    
He went straight to the Wutai Mountain;
⁶

    
To hear sūtras explained before the lotus seat.

We do not know finally how the Tang Monk and his disciples leave the city; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

FORTY

The child’s playful transformations confuse the Chan Mind;

Ape, Horse, Spatula gone, Wood Mother, too, is lost.

We were telling you about the Great Sage Sun and his two brothers, who lowered their clouds and returned to the court. They were met by the king, the queen, and their subjects—all of them lined up in rows to bow and to express their thanks. Pilgrim then gave a complete account of how the Bodhisattva came to subdue the monster, and all the officials in court touched the top of their heads to the ground in adoration. As they were thus rejoicing, the Custodian of the Yellow Gate arrived to announce, “My lord, there are four more monks who have arrived at the gate.” A little apprehensive, Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, could it be that the monster-spirit, having used magic to disguise himself as the Bodhisattva Mañjuśrī to deceive us, has now changed again into some kind of monk to match wits with us?” “How could that be?” said Pilgrim, who then asked that the monks be summoned inside.

After the civil and military officials transmitted the order and the visitors entered, Pilgrim saw that they were monks from the Precious Grove Monastery, who came bearing the rising-to-Heaven cap, the green-jade belt, the brownish yellow robe, and the carefree boots. Highly pleased, Pilgrim said, “It’s wonderful that you’ve come!” He asked the mendicant worker to step forward: his head-wrap was taken off and the rising-to-Heaven cap was placed on his head; the cloth garment was stripped off and he put on the brownish yellow robe instead; after he untied the silk sash and took off the monk sandals, he buckled on the jade-green belt and climbed into the carefree boots. The prince was then told to bring out the white jade token so that the king might hold it in his hands, and he was asked to ascend the main hall to be the king once more. As the ancient proverb said, “The court should not be one day without a ruler.” But the king absolutely refused to sit on the throne; weeping profusely, he knelt on the steps and said, “I’ve been dead for three years, and I’m indebted to Master for making me return to life. How could I dare assume such honor again? Let one of these masters be the ruler; I’ll be perfectly content to go with my wife and child outside the city to live as a commoner.” Tripitaka, of course, would have none of this, for he was intent on going to worship Buddha and to acquire the scriptures. The king then turned to Pilgrim, who said to him, smiling, “To tell you the truth, if old Monkey wanted to be a king, he would have been one throughout the myriad kingdoms in the world. But all of us are
used
to the leisurely and carefree existence of monks. If I become a king, I will have to let my hair grow again; I won’t be able to retire when it’s dark, nor will I be able to sleep beyond the hour of the fifth watch. I’ll be anxious when reports from the borders arrive; I’ll have endless worries when there are disasters or famines. How could I live with these things? So, you may as well be the king, and we shall continue to be monks to cultivate our merit.” After pleading with them bitterly to no avail, the king had no choice but to ascend the treasure hall once more to face south and resume the use of the royal “we.” After giving a general pardon throughout his empire, he also bestowed huge rewards on the monks of the Precious Grove Monastery before they left. Then he opened up the eastern palace to give a banquet to honor the Tang Monk; at the same time, painters were summoned into the palace to make portraits of the four pilgrims, so that these could be permanently revered in the Hall of Golden Chimes.

After they had securely established the kingdom, master and disciples, reluctant to stay too long, were about to take leave of the throne to face the West. The king, the queen, the prince, and all their subjects took out the crown treasures together with gold, silver, and silk to present to the master as tokens of gratitude, but Tripitaka refused to accept any of these. All he wanted was to have his travel rescript certified so that he could tell Wukong and his brothers to saddle the horse and leave. Feeling very keenly that he had not expressed his gratitude in an adequate manner, the king called for his imperial chariot and invited the Tang Monk to sit in it. The two rows of civil and military officials were told to lead the way in front, while he, the prince, and the ladies of the three palaces pushed the chariot themselves. Only after they had gone out of the city wall was the Tang Monk permitted to descend from the dragon chariot to take leave. “O Master,” said the king, “when you have reached the Western Heaven and retrace your steps with your scriptures, you must pay our region a visit.” “Your disciple obeys you,” said Tripitaka, and the king went back to the city tearfully with his subjects. The Tang Monk and his three disciples again took up the labyrinthine path, their minds intent only on bowing at the Spirit Mountain. It was now the season of late autumn and early winter, and they saw

    
Frost blighting the maples to make each forest sparse,

    
And rain-ripened millet, plenty every where.

    
Warmed by the sun, summit plums spread their morning hues;

    
Rocked by the wind, mountain bamboos voice their chilly plaint.

After they left the Black Rooster Kingdom, master and disciples journeyed during the day and rested at night; they had been on the road for more than half a month when they came upon another tall mountain, truly
Heaven-touching
and sun-obstructing. Growing alarmed on the horse, Tripitaka quickly pulled in his reins to call Pilgrim. “What do you want to say, Master?” asked Pilgrim. “Look at that huge mountain with those rugged cliffs before us,” said Tripitaka. “You must take caution and be on your guard, for I fear that some deviate creature all of a sudden will come to attack me again.” “Just get moving,” said Pilgrim with a chuckle. “Don’t be suspicious. Old Monkey has his defense.” The elder had to banish his worries and urged his horse to enter the mountain, which was truly rugged. You see,

    
Whether tall or not,
¹

    
Its top reaches the blue sky;

    
Whether deep or not,

    
A stream with depth like Hell down there.

    
Before the mountain

    
Are often seen rings of white clouds rising

    
And boiling waves of dark fog;

    
Red plums and jadelike bamboos;

    
Verdant cedars and green pines;

    
Behind the mountain

    
Are soul-rending cliffs ten thousand yards deep,

    
Behind which are strange, grotesque, demon-hiding caves,

    
In which water drips down from rocks drop by drop,

    
Leading to a winding, twisting brooklet down below.

    
You see also fruit-bearing apes prancing and leaping,

    
And deer with horns forked and zigzagged;

    
Dull and dumbly staring antelopes;

    
Tigers climbing the hills to seek their dens at night;

    
Dragons churning the waves to leave their lairs at dawn.

    
When steps at the cave’s entrance snap and crackle,

    
The fowls dart up with wings loudly beating.

    
Look also at these beasts pawing noisily through the woods.

    
When you see this horde of birds and beasts,

    
You will be stricken with heart-pounding fear.

    
The Due-to-Fall Cave faces the Due-to-Fall Cave;

    
The cave facing the Due-to-Fall Cave faces a god.

    
Green rocks are dyed like a thousand pieces of jade;

    
Blue-green gauze enshrouds ten thousand piles of mist.

As master and disciples became more and more apprehensive, they saw a red cloud rising up from the fold of the mountain ahead of them; after it reached midair, it condensed and took on the appearance of a fireball. Greatly alarmed, Pilgrim ran forward to catch hold of one of the Tang Monk’s legs and pulled him from the horse, crying, “Brothers, stop! A monster
is approaching!” Eight Rules and Sha Monk quickly took out their muckrake and precious staff and surrounded the Tang Monk.

Let us now tell you that there was indeed a monster-spirit inside the ball of red light. Several years ago he heard people saying that the Tang Monk sent from the Land of the East to acquire scriptures from the Western Heaven was the incarnation of the elder, Gold Cicada, a good man who had practiced austerities for ten existences. Any person who could taste a piece of his flesh, they said, would be able to prolong his life until it became the same as Heaven and Earth. Every morning, therefore, he waited in the mountain, and suddenly he found that the pilgrim had arrived. As he watched in midair, he saw that the Tang Monk beside the horse was surrounded by three disciples, all ready to fight. Marveling to himself, the spirit said, “Dear monk! This white-faced, chubby cleric riding a horse was just coming into my view, when all of a sudden these three ugly monks had him surrounded. Look at them! Everyone is rolling up his sleeves, stretching out his fists and wielding his weapon—as if he is about to fight with someone. Aha! One of them with some perception, I suppose, must have recognized me. Well, if it’s going to be like this, it’ll be difficult for anyone trying to get a taste of the Tang Monk’s flesh.” As he thought to himself, questioning his mind with mind like that, he said, “If I try to overpower them, I may not even get near them, but if I try to use the good to deceive them, I may succeed. As long as I am able to beguile their minds, I can trick them even with the good. Then I’ll catch them for sure. Let me go down and tease them a little.”