Output:
“Master,” protested Brother Monkey, “You’re called Tang, aren’t you, so how can you belong to the same clan as him?”

“My secular surname is Chen, and I am from Juxian Village, Hongnong Prefecture, Haizhou, in the Tang Empire. My Buddhist name is Chen Xuanzang. But as our Great Tang Emperor Taizong called me his younger brother and gave me the surname Tang, I am known as the Tang Priest.” The old fellow was delighted to hear that they shared a surname.

“Chen, old fellow,” said Monkey, “I’m afraid this will be putting your family out, but I haven’t washed for over five hundred years, so could you go and boil up some water for me and my master to have a bath before we set out again? Thank you.” The old man gave instructions for water to be boiled and a tub brought, and he lit the lamp.

When master and disciple had bathed they sat down by the lamp, and Brother Monkey asked once more, “Old Chen, there’s another thing I’d like to ask you: could you lend me a needle and thread?”


Output:
“Yes, of course,” the old man replied, sending his wife to fetch them and then handing them to Monkey. Monkey’s sharp eyes had observed his master take off a short white cotton tunic, which he did not put on again, so Monkey grabbed it and put it on himself. Then he took off his tiger skin, joined it up with a pleat, wrapped it round his waist again, tied it with a creeper, went up to his master, and asked, “How would you say these clothes compared with what I was wearing before?”

“Splendid, splendid,” replied Sanzang, “it makes you look quite like a real monk. If you don’t mind cast-offs,” he added, “you can go on wearing that tunic.” Sun Wukong chanted a “na-a-aw” of obedience and thanked him, then went off to find some hay for the horse. When all the jobs were finished, master and disciple went to bed.


Output:
Early the next morning Sun Wukong woke up and asked his master to set out. Sanzang dressed and told Monkey to pack the bedding and the rest of the luggage. They were just on the point of leaving when the old man appeared. He had prepared hot water for washing as well as breakfast. After breakfast they set out, Sanzang riding the horse and Brother Monkey leading. They ate when they were hungry and drank when they were thirsty, travelling by day and resting by night. Thus they went on until they realized it was early winter.

When the frost destroys the red leaves the woods are sparse;

On the ridge only pine and cypress flourish.

The unopened plum buds exhale a dark perfume,

Warming the short days,

A touch of spring.

When the chrysanthemum and lotus is finished, the wild tea blossoms.

By the cold bridge and the ancient trees the birds quarrel for branches.

In the twisting gully the waters of the spring run low,

Pale snow clouds drift across the sky.

The North wind blows strong,


Output:
The North wind blows strong,

Tugging at your-sleeves:

Who can bear the cold towards evening?

When master and disciple had been travelling for a long time they heard a whistle from beside the path, and six men rushed out with spears, swords, cutlasses, and strongbows.

“Where do you think you’re going, monk?” they roared. “If you give us your horse and luggage we’ll spare your life.” Sanzang fell from his horse, scared out of his wits and unable to utter a word. Brother Monkey helped him to his feet and said, “Don’t worry, master, it’s nothing serious. They’re come to bring us some clothes and our travelling expenses.”

“Are you deaf, Wukong?” the other asked. “They told us to give them our horse and luggage, so how can you ask them for clothes and money?”

“You look after the clothes, the luggage and the horse while I go and have a bash at them. We’ll see what happens.”


Output:
“A good hand is no match for two fists,” said Sanzang, “and a pair of fists is no match for four hands. They are six big men against little you, all by yourself. You can’t possibly have the nerve to fight them.”

The brave Brother Monkey did not stop to argue. Instead he stepped forward, folded his arms across his chest, bowed to the six bandits and said, “Why are you gentlemen obstructing our way?”

“We are mighty robber kings, benevolent lords of the mountain. We have been very famous for a long time, although you don’t seem to have heard of us. If you abandon your things at once, we’ll let you go on your way; but if there’s even a hint of a ‘no’ from you, we’ll turn your flesh into mincemeat and your bones into powder.”

“I too am a hereditary robber king, and have ruled a mountain for many years, but I’ve never heard of you gentlemen.”


Output:
“Since you don’t know our names, I’ll tell them to you: Eye-seeing Happiness, Ear-hearing Anger, Nose-smelling Love, Tongue-tasting Thought, Mind-born Desire, and Body-based Sorrow.” Sun Wukong laughed at them. “You’re just a bunch of small-time crooks. You can’t see that I’m your lord and master although I’m a monk, and you have the effrontery to get in our way. Bring out all the jewels you’ve stolen, and the seven of us can share them out equally. I’ll let you off with that.”

This made the bandits happy, angry, loving, thoughtful, desirous, and sorrowful respectively, and they all charged him, yelling, “You’ve got a nerve, monk. You’ve got nothing to put in the kitty, but you want to share our stuff.” Waving their spears and swords they rushed him, hacking wildly at his face. Seventy or eighty blows crashed down on him, but he simply stood in the middle of them, ignoring everything.

“What a monk!” the bandits said. “He’s a real tough nut.”


Output:
“I think we’ve seen enough of that,” said Brother Monkey with a smile. “Your hands must be tired after all that bashing. Now it’s my turn to bring out my needle for a bit of fun.”

“This monk must have been an acupuncturist,” said the bandits. “There’s nothing wrong with us. Why is he talking about needles?”

Taking the embroidery needle from his ear, Brother Monkey shook it in the wind, at which it became an iron cudgel as thick as a ricebowl. With this in his hand he said, “Stick around while I try my cudgel out.” The terrified bandits tried to flee in all directions, but Monkey raced after them, caught them all up, and killed every one of them. Then he stripped the clothes off them, took their money, and went back with his face wreathed in smiles.

“Let’s go, master; I’ve wiped those bandits out,” he said.


Output:
“Even though they were highwaymen, you’re really asking for trouble,” Sanzang replied. “Even if they had been arrested and handed over to the authorities, they wouldn’t have been sentenced to death. You may know a few tricks, but it would be better if you’d simply driven them away. Why did you have to kill them all? Even taking a man’s life by accident is enough to stop someone from becoming a monk. A person who enters the religious life

Spares the ants when he sweeps the floor,

Covers the lamps to save the moth.

What business did you have to slaughter the lot of them, without caring which of them were the guilty and which were innocent? You haven’t a shred of compassion or goodness in you. This time it happened in the wilds, where nobody will be able to trace the crime. Say someone offended you in a city and you turned murderous there. Say you killed and wounded people when you went berserk with that club of yours. I myself would be involved even though I’m quite innocent.”


Output:
“But if I hadn’t killed them, they’d have killed you, master,” protested Sun Wukong.

“I am a man of religion, and I would rather die than commit murder,” said Sanzang. “If I’d died, there’d only have been me dead, but you killed six of them, which was an absolute outrage. If the case were taken to court, you couldn’t talk your way out of this even if the judge were your own father.”

“To tell you the truth, master, I don’t know how many people I killed when I was the monster who ruled the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit,” said Sun Wukong, “but if I’d acted your way I’d never have become the Great Sage Equaling Heaven.”

“It was precisely because you acted with such tyrannical cruelty among mortals and committed the most desperate crimes against Heaven that you got into trouble five hundred years ago,” retorted Sanzang. “But now you have entered the faith, you’ll never reach the Western Heaven and never become a monk if you don’t give up your taste for murder. You’re too evil, too evil.”


Output:
Monkey, who had never let himself be put upon, flared up at Sanzang’s endless nagging.

“If you say that I’ll never become a monk and won’t ever reach the Western Heaven, then stop going on at me like that. I’m going back.”

Before Sanzang could reply, Monkey leapt up in a fury, shouting, “I’m off.” Sanzang looked up quickly, but he was already out of sight. All that could be heard was a whistling sound coming from the East. Left on his own, the Priest nodded and sighed to himself with great sadness and indignation.

“The incorrigible wretch,” he reflected. “Fancy disappearing and going back home like that just because I gave him a bit of a telling-off. So that’s that. I must be fated to have no disciples or followers. I couldn’t find him now even if I wanted to, and he wouldn’t answer if I called him. I must be on my way.” So he had to strive with all his might to reach the West, looking after himself with nobody to help.


Output:
Sanzang had no choice but to gather up the luggage and tie it on the horse. He did not ride now. Instead, holding his monastic staff in one hand and leading the horse by the reins with the other, he made his lonely way to the West. Before he had been travelling for long he saw an old woman on the mountain path in front of him. She was holding an embroidered robe, and a patterned hat was resting upon it. As she came towards him he hurriedly pulled the horse to the side of the path to make room for her to pass.

“Where are you from, venerable monk,” the old woman asked, “travelling all alone and by yourself?”

“I have been sent by the great King of the East to go to the West to visit the Buddha and ask him for the True Scriptures,” he replied.

“The Buddha of the West lives in the Great Thunder Monastery in the land of India, thirty-six thousand miles away from here. You’ll never get there, just you and your horse, without a companion or disciple.”


Output:
“I did have a disciple, but his nature was so evil that he would not accept a little reproof I administered to him and disappeared into the blue,” said Sanzang.

“I have here an embroidered tunic and a hat inset with golden patterns that used to be my son’s,” the woman said, “but he died after being a monk for only three days. I’ve just been to his monastery to mourn him and say farewell to his master, and I was taking this tunic and this hat home to remember the boy by. But as you have a disciple, venerable monk, I’ll give them to you.”

“Thank you very much for your great generosity, but as my disciple has already gone, I couldn’t accept them.”

“Where has he gone?”

“All I heard was a whistling sound as he went back to the East.”


Output: “My home isn’t far to the East from here,” she said, “so I expect he’s gone there. I’ve also got a spell called True Words to Calm the Mind, or the Band-tightening Spell. You must learn it in secret, and be sure to keep it to yourself. Never leak it to anyone. I’ll go and catch up with him and send him back to you, and you can give him that tunic and hat to wear. If he’s disobedient again, all you have to do is recite the spell quietly. That will stop him committing any more murders or running away again.”


Output:
Sanzang bowed low to thank her, at which she changed into a beam of golden light and returned to the East. He realized in his heart that it must have been the Bodhisattva Guanyin who had given him the spell, so he took a pinch of earth as if he were burning incense and bowed in worship to the East most reverently. Then he put the tunic and hat in his pack, sat down beside the path, and recited the True Words to Calm the Mind over and over again until he knew them thoroughly, and had committed them to his memory.

Let us turn to Sun Wukong, who after leaving his master went straight back to the Eastern Ocean on his somersault cloud. Putting his cloud away, he parted the waters and went straight to the undersea palace of crystal. His approach had alarmed the dragon king, who came out to welcome him and took him into the palace, where they sat down.


Output:
When they had exchanged courtesies the dragon king said, “I’m sorry that I failed to come and congratulate you on the end of your sufferings, Great Sage. I take it that you are returning to your old cave to put your immortal mountain back in order.”

“That’s what I wanted to do,” Monkey replied. “But I’ve become a monk instead.”

“A monk? How?” the dragon king asked.

“The Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea converted me. She taught me to work for a good reward later by going to the West with the Tang Priest from the East, visiting the Buddha, and becoming a monk. And my name has been changed to Brother Monkey.”

“Congratulations, congratulations,” said the dragon king. “You’ve turned over a new leaf and decided to be good. But in that case why have you come back to the East instead of going West?” Monkey laughed.


Output:
“Because that Tang Priest doesn’t understand human nature. He started nagging away at me about a few small-time highwaymen I killed, and said that everything about me was wrong. You know how I can’t stand people going on at me, so I left him to come home to my mountain. I looked in on you first to ask for a cup of tea.”

“Delighted to oblige,” said the dragon king, and his dragon sons and grandsons came in with some fragrant tea which they presented to Monkey.

When he had drunk his tea, Monkey looked round and saw a picture called, “Presenting the Shoe at the Yi Bridge” hanging on the wall behind him.

“What’s that a view of?” asked Monkey.

“You wouldn’t know about it because it happened after your time,” the dragon king replied. “It’s called ‘Presenting the Shoe Three Times at the Yi Bridge.’”

“What’s all that about?” Monkey asked.


Output: “The Immortal is Lord Yellow Stone, and the boy is Zhang Liang, who lived in Han times,” the dragon king replied. “Lord Yellow Stone was sitting on the bridge when suddenly he dropped one of his shoes under it and told Zhang Liang to fetch it for him. The boy Zhang Liang did so at once, and knelt down to present it to him. Lord Yellow Stone did this three times, and because Zhang Liang never showed a trace of arrogance or disrespect, Lord Yellow Stone was touched by his diligence. One night he gave Zhang Liang some heavenly books and told him to support the Han cause. Later he won victories hundreds of miles away through his calculations within the walls of his tent. When peace came he resigned his office and went back to roam on his mountain with Master Red Pine and achieve the Way of Immortality through enlightenment. Great Sage, if you don’t protect the Tang Priest with all your might, and if you reject his instruction, then you might as well stop trying to win yourself a good later reward, because it


Output: to win yourself a good later reward, because it will mean you’re only an evil Immoral after all.” Monkey hummed and hawed, but said nothing.


Output:
“Great Sage,” said the dragon king, “you must make your mind up. Don’t ruin your future for the sake of any easy life now.”

“Enough said. I’ll go back and look after him,” replied Sun Wukong. The dragon king was delighted.

“In that case I shan’t keep you. I ask you in your mercy not to leave your master waiting for long.” Being thus pressed to go, Monkey left the sea palace, mounted his cloud, and took leave of the dragon king.

On his way he met the Bodhisattva Guanyin. “What are you doing here, Sun Wukong?” she asked. “Why did you reject the Tang Priest’s teaching and stop protecting him?” Brother Monkey frantically bowed to her from his cloud and replied, “As you had predicted, Bodhisattva, a monk came from the Tang Empire who took off the seal, rescued me, and made me his disciple. I ran away from him because he thought I was wicked and incorrigible, but now I’m going back to protect him.”

“Hurry up then, and don’t have any more wicked thoughts.” With that they each went their separate ways.


Output:
A moment later Monkey saw the Tang Priest sitting gloomily beside the path. He went up to him and said, “Why aren’t you travelling, master? What are you still here for?” Sanzang looked up.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “I couldn’t move without you, so I had to sit here and wait till you came back.”

“I went to visit the Old Dragon King of the Eastern Sea to ask him for some tea,” Monkey replied.

“Disciple, a religious man shouldn’t tell lies. How can you say that you went to drink tea at the dragon king’s place when you haven’t been gone two hours?”

“I can tell you quite truthfully,” replied Monkey with a smile, “that with my somersault cloud I can cover thirty-six thousand miles in a single bound. That’s how I got there and back.”

“When I spoke to you a little severely you resented it and went off in a huff,” said Sanzang. “It was all right for a clever person like you—you begged yourself some tea. But I couldn’t go, and had to stay here hungry. You ought to be sorry for me.”


Output:
“If you’re hungry, master, I’ll go and beg you some food,” suggested Monkey.

“No need,” his master replied, “there are still some dry provisions in my bundle that the high warden’s mother gave me. Take that bowl and fetch some water. When we’ve eaten some of it we can be on our way.”

Opening the bundle, Brother Monkey found some scones made of coarse flour, which he took out and gave to his master. He also noticed the dazzling brocade tunic and the hat with inlaid golden patterns.

“Did you bring this tunic and hat with you from the East?” he asked. Sanzang had to make something up on the spot.

“I used to wear them when I was young. With that hat on you can recite scriptures without ever having been taught them, and if you wear that tunic you can perform the rituals without any practice.”

“Dear master, please let me wear them,” Monkey pleaded.


Output: “I don’t know whether they’ll fit you, but if you can get them on, you can wear them.” Monkey took off the old white tunic, put the brocade one on instead, and found that it was a perfect fit. Then he put the hat on his head. As soon as he had the hat on, Sanzang stopped eating and silently recited the Band-tightening Spell.


Output:
“My head aches, my head aches,” cried Brother Monkey, but his master went on and recited the spell several times more. Monkey, now rolling in agony, tore the hat to shreds, and Sanzang stopped reciting the spell for fear he would break the golden band. The moment the spell stopped the pain finished. Reaching up to feel his head, Monkey found something like a golden wire clamped so tightly around it that he could not wrench or snap it off. It had already taken root there. He took the needle out of his ear, forced it inside the band, and pulled wildly at it. Sanzang, again frightened that he would snap it, started to recite the spell once more. The pain was so bad this time that Monkey stood on his head, turned somersaults, and went red in the face and ears. His eyes were popping and his body went numb. Seeing the state he was in, Sanzang had to stop, and the pain stopped again too.

“Master,” said Monkey, “What a curse you put on me to give me a headache like that.”


Output:
“I didn’t put a curse on you, I recited the Band-tightening Spell,” Sanzang replied.

“Say it again and see what happens,” said Monkey, and when Sanzang did as he asked, Monkey’s head ached again. “Stop, stop,” he shouted, “the moment you started reciting it my head ached. Why did you do it?”

“Will you accept my instruction now?” Sanzang asked.

“Yes,” Monkey replied.

“Will you misbehave again in future?”

“I certainly won’t,” said Monkey.

Although he had made this verbal promise, he was still nurturing evil thoughts, and he shook his needle in the wind till it was as thick as a ricebowl. He turned on the Tang Priest, and was on the point of finishing him off when the terrified Sanzang recited the spell two or three more times.

The monkey dropped his cudgel and fell to the ground, unable to raise his arm, “Master,” he shouted, “I’ve seen the light. Stop saying the spell, please stop.”

“How could you have the perfidy to try to kill me?” asked Sanzang.


Output:
“I’d never have dared,” said Brother Monkey, adding, “who taught you that spell, master?”

“An old lady I met just now,” replied Sanzang. Monkey exploded with rage.

“Tell me no more,” he said, “I’m sure and certain the old woman was that Guanyin. How could she do this to me? Just you wait. I’m going to the Southern Sea to kill her.”

“As she taught me this spell,” Sanzang replied, “she’s bound to know it herself. If you go after her and she recites it, that will be the end of you.” Seeing the force of his argument, Monkey changed his mind and gave up the idea of going. He knelt down and pleaded pitifully, “Master, she’s used this to force me to go with you to the West. I shan’t go to make trouble for her, and you must recite scriptures instead of saying that spell all the time. I promise to protect you, and I shall always be true to this vow.”


Output:
“In that case you’d better help me back on the horse,” Sanzang replied. Monkey, who had been plunged into despair, summoned up his spirits, tightened the belt round his brocade tunic, got the horse ready, gathered up the luggage, and hurried off towards the West. If you want to know what other stories there are about the journey, then listen to the explanation in the next installment.

Chapter Fifteen

On the Coiled Snake Mountain the Gods Give Secret Help

In the Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge the Thought-Horse Is Reined in

Monkey looked after the Tang Priest as they headed West. They had been travelling for several days in the twelfth month of the year, with its freezing North winds and biting cold. Their path wound along overhanging precipices and steep cliffs, and they crossed range after range of dangerous mountains. One day Sanzang heard the sound of water as he rode along, and he turned around to shout, “Monkey, where’s that sound of water coming from?”


Output:
“As I remember, this place is called Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge in the Coiled Snake Mountain. It must be the water in the gorge.” Before he had finished speaking, the horse reached the edge of the gorge. Sanzang reined in and looked. He saw:

A thin cold stream piercing the clouds,

Deep, clear waves shining red in the sun.

The sound shakes the night rain and is heard in the quiet valley,

Its color throws up a morning haze that obscures the sky.

A thousand fathoms of flying waves spit jade;

The torrent’s roar howls in the fresh wind.

The current leads to the misty waves of the sea;

The egret and the cormorant never meet by a fisherman.


Output:
As master and disciple watched they heard a noise in the gorge as a dragon emerged from the waves, leapt up the cliff, and grabbed at Sanzang. In his alarm Monkey dropped the luggage, lifted Sanzang off his horse, turned, and fled. The dragon, unable to catch him up, swallowed the white horse, saddle and all, at a single gulp, then disappeared once more beneath the surface of the water. Monkey made his master sit down on a high peak and went back to fetch the horse and the luggage. When he found that the horse had gone and only the luggage was left, he carried the luggage up to his master and put it down before him.

“Master,” he said, “that damned dragon has disappeared without a trace. It gave our horse such a fright that it ran away.”

“However are we going to find the horse, disciple?”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, wait here while I go and look for it.”


Output:
He leapt into the sky, whistling. Putting up his hand to shade his fiery eyes with their golden pupils, he looked all around below him, but saw no sign of the horse. He put his cloud away and reported, “Master, that horse of ours must have been eaten by the dragon—I can’t see it anywhere.”

“Disciple,” Sanzang protested, “how could that wretched creature have a mouth big enough to swallow a horse that size, saddle and all? I think the horse must have slipped its bridle in a panic and run into that valley. Go and have a more careful look.”

“You don’t know about my powers,” Monkey replied. “These eyes of mine can see what’s happening three hundred miles away, and within that range I can even spot a dragonfly spreading its wings. There’s no way I could miss a big horse like that.”


Output:
“But we’ll never get across those thousands of mountains and rivers.” As he spoke, his tears fell like rain. The sight of him crying was too much for Brother Monkey, who flared up and shouted, “Stop being such an imbecile, master. Sit there and wait while I find that wretch and make him give us back our horse.”

“You mustn’t go,” said Sanzang, grabbing hold of him. “I’m frightened that he’ll come creeping out again and kill me this time. Then I’ll be dead as well as the horse, and that would be terrible.”

This made Monkey angrier than ever, and he roared with a shout like thunder, “You’re hopeless, absolutely hopeless. You want a horse to ride but you won’t let me go. This way you’ll be sitting there looking at the luggage for the rest of your life.”


Output:
As he was yelling ferociously in a flaming temper, a voice was heard in the sky that said, “Don’t be angry, Great Sage; stop crying, younger brother of the Tang Emperor. We are gods sent by the Bodhisattva Guanyin to give hidden protection to the pilgrim who is fetching the scriptures.”

At these words Sanzang immediately bowed, but Monkey said, “Tell me your names, you lot.”

“We are the Six Dings, the Six Jias, the Revealers of the Truth of the Five Regions, the Four Duty Gods, and the Eighteen Protectors of the Faith; we shall take it in turns to be in attendance every day.”

“Who starts today?”

“The Dings and Jias, the Four Duty Gods, and the Protectors of the Faith will take turns. Of the Revealers of the Five Regions, the Gold-headed Revealer will always be with you by day and by night.”


Output:
“Very well then,” said Monkey, “all those of you who are not on duty may withdraw. The Six Ding Heavenly Generals, the Duty God of the Day, and the Revealers of the Truth will stay here to protect my master, while I shall go to find that evil dragon in the gorge and make him give our horse back.” The gods all did as they were told, and Sanzang, now greatly relieved, sat on the cliff and gave Monkey detailed instructions.

“There’s no need for you to worry,” said the splendid Monkey King as he tightened the belt round his brocade tunic, folded up his tiger-skin kilt, grasped his cudgel, went to the edge of the gorge, and stood amid clouds and mist above the water. “Give us back our horse, mud loach, give us back our horse,” he shouted.

Now when the dragon had eaten Sanzang’s white horse it lay low in the stream, hiding its miraculous powers and nourishing its vital nature. When it heard someone shouting and cursing it and demanding the horse back, it was unable to hold back its temper.


Output:
Leaping up through the waves it asked, “How dare you make so free with your insults?”

The moment he saw it, Monkey roared, “Don’t go! Give us back our horse!” and swung his cudgel at the dragon’s head. Baring its fangs and waving its claws, the dragon went for him. It was a noble battle that the pair of them fought beside the ravine.

The dragon stretched its sharp claws,

The monkey raised his gold-banded cudgel.

The beard of one hung in threads of white jade,

The other’s eyes flashed like golden lamps.

The pearls in the dragon’s beard gave off a coloured mist,

The iron club in the other’s hands danced like a whirlwind.

One was a wicked son who had wronged his parents;

The father, the evil spirit who had worsted heavenly generals.

Both had been through trouble and suffering,

And now they were to use their abilities to win merit.


Output:
Coming and going, fighting and resting, wheeling and turning, they battled on for a very long time until the dragon’s strength was exhausted and his muscles numb. Unable to resist any longer, it turned around, dived into the water, and lay low at the bottom of the stream. It pretended to be deaf as the Monkey King cursed and railed at it, and did not emerge again.

Monkey could do nothing, so he had to report to Sanzang, “Master, I swore at that ogre till it came out, and after fighting me for ages it fled in terror. It’s now in the water and won’t come out again.”

“Are you sure that it really ate our horse?” Sanzang asked.

“What a thing to say,” said Monkey, “If it hadn’t eaten the horse, it wouldn’t have dared to say a word or fight against me.”


Output:
“When you killed that tiger the other day you said you had ways of making dragons and tigers submit to you, so how comes it that you couldn’t beat this one today?” Monkey had never been able to stand provocation, so when Sanzang mocked him this time he showed something of his divine might.

“Say no more, say no more. I’ll have another go at it and then we’ll see who comes out on top.”

The Monkey King leapt to the edge of the ravine, and used a magical way of throwing rivers and seas into turmoil to make the clear waters at the bottom of the Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge as turbulent as the waves of the Yellow River in spate. The evil dragon’s peace was disturbed as he lurked in the depths of the waters, and he thought, “How true it is that blessings never come in pairs and troubles never come singly. Although I’ve been accepting my fate here for less than a year since I escaped the death penalty for breaking the laws of Heaven, I would have to run into this murderous devil.”


Output:
The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt, and unable to bear the humiliation a moment longer he jumped out of the stream cursing, “Where are you from, you bloody devil, coming here to push me around?”

“Never you mind where I’m from,” Monkey replied. “I’ll only spare your life if you give back that horse.”

“That horse of yours is in my stomach, and I can’t sick it up again, can I? I’m not giving it back, so what about it?”

“If you won’t give it back, then take this! I’m only killing you to make you pay for the horse’s life.” The two of them began another bitter struggle under the mountain, and before many rounds were up the little dragon could hold out no longer. With a shake of his body he turned himself into a water-snake and slithered into the undergrowth.


Output:
The Monkey King chased it with his cudgel in his hands, but when he pushed the grass aside to find the snake the three gods inside his body exploded, and smoke poured from his seven orifices. He uttered the magic word om, thus calling out the local tutelary god and the god of the mountain, who both knelt before him and reported their arrival.

“Put out your ankles,” Monkey said, “while I give you five strokes each of my cudgel to work off my temper.” The two gods kowtowed and pleaded pitifully, “We beg the Great Sage to allow us petty gods to report.”

“What have you got to say?” Monkey asked.

“We didn’t know when you emerged after your long sufferings, Great Sage,” they said, “which is why we didn’t come to meet you. We beg to be forgiven.”

“In that case,” Monkey said, “I won’t beat you, but I’ll ask you this instead: where does that devil dragon in the Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge come from, and why did he grab my master’s white horse and eat it?”


Output:
“Great Sage, you never had a master,” said the two gods, “and you were a supreme Immortal with an undisturbed essence who would not submit to Heaven or Earth, so how does this master’s horse come in?”

“You two don’t know that either,” Monkey replied. “Because of that business of offending against Heaven, I had to suffer for five hundred years. Now I’ve been converted by the Bodhisattva Guanyin, and she’s sent a priest who’s come from the Tang Empire to rescue me. She told me to become his disciple and go to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. As we were passing this way we lost my master’s white horse.”


Output: “Ah, so that’s what’s happening,” the gods said. “There never used to be any evil creatures in the stream, which ran wide and deep with water so pure that crows and magpies never dared to fly across it. This was because they would mistake their own reflections in it for other birds of their own kind and often go plummeting into the water. That’s why it’s called Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge. Last year, when the Bodhisattva Guanyin was on her way to find a man to fetch the scriptures, she rescued a jade dragon and sent it to wait here for the pilgrim without getting up to any trouble. But when it’s hungry it comes up on the bank to catch a few birds or a roedeer to eat. We can’t imagine how it could be so ignorant as to clash with the Great Sage.”


Output:
“The first time he and I crossed swords we whirled around for a few rounds,” Brother Monkey replied. “The second time I swore at him but he wouldn’t come out, so I stirred up his stream with a spell to throw rivers and seas into turmoil, after which he came out and wanted to have another go at me. He didn’t realize how heavy my cudgel was, and he couldn’t parry it, so he changed himself into a water snake and slithered into the undergrowth. I chased him and searched for him, but he’s vanished without a trace.”

“Great Sage, you may not be aware that there are thousands of interconnected tunnels in this ravine, which is why the waters here run so deep. There is also a tunnel entrance round here that he could have slipped into. There’s no need for you to be angry, Great Sage, or to search for it. If you want to catch the creature, all you have to do is to ask Guanyin to come here, and it will naturally submit.”


Output:
On receiving this suggestion Monkey told the local deity and the mountain god to come with him to see Sanzang and tell him all about what had happened previously. “If you go to ask the Bodhisattva to come here, when will you ever be back?” he asked, adding, “I’m terribly cold and hungry.”

Before the words were out of his mouth they heard the voice of the Gold-headed Revealer shouting from the sky, “Great Sage, there’s no need for you to move. I’ll go and ask the Bodhisattva to come here.” Monkey, who was delighted, replied, “This is putting you to great trouble, but please be as quick as you can.” The Revealer then shot off on his cloud to the Southern Sea. Monkey told the mountain god and the local deity to protect his master, and sent the Duty God of the Day to find some vegetarian food, while he himself patrolled the edge of the ravine.


Output:
The moment the Gold-headed Revealer mounted his cloud he reached the Southern Sea. Putting away his propitious glow, he went straight to the Purple Bamboo Grove on the island of Potaraka, where he asked the Golden Armour Devas and Moksa to get him an audience with the Bodhisattva.

“What have you come for?” the Bodhisattva asked.

“The Tang Priest,” the Revealer replied, “has lost his horse in the Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge, and the Great Sage Sun Wukong is desperate, because they can neither go forward nor back. When the Great Sage asked the local deity he was told that the evil dragon you sent to the ravine, Bodhisattva, had swallowed it, so he has sent me to ask you to subdue this dragon and make it give back the horse.”


Output:
“That wretched creature was the son of Ao Run, the Dragon King of the Western Sea, whom his father reported for disobedience when he burned the palace jewels. The heavenly court condemned him to death for it, but I went myself to see the Jade Emperor and asked him to send the dragon down to serve the Tang Priest as a beast of burden. Whatever made it actually eat the Tang Priest’s horse? I’d better go and look into it.” The Bodhisattva descended from her lotus throne, left her magic cave, and crossed the Southern Sea, travelling on propitious light with the Revealer. There is a poem about it that goes:

Honey is in the Buddha’s words that fill Three Stores of scripture,

The Bodhisattva’s goodness is longer than the Great Wall.

The wonderful words of the Mahayana fill Heaven and Earth,

The truth of the prajna rescues ghosts and souls.

It even made the Golden Cicada shed his cocoon once more,

And ordered Xuanzang to continue cultivating his conduct.


Output:
Because the road was difficult at the Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge,

The dragon’s son returned to the truth and changed into a horse.

The Bodhisattva and the Revealer reached the Coiled Snake Mountain before long, and stopping their cloud in mid-air they looked down and saw Brother Monkey cursing and shouting at the edge of the ravine. When the Bodhisattva told him to call Monkey over, the Revealer brought his cloud to land at the edge of the ravine. Instead of going to see Sanzang first, he said to Monkey, “The Bodhisattva’s here.”

Monkey leapt straight into the air on his cloud and shouted at her at the top of his voice, “Teacher of the Seven Buddhas, merciful head of our religion, why did you think up this way of hurting me?”

“I’ll get you, you outrageous baboon, you red-bottomed ape,” she replied. “I was at my wit’s end two or three times over how to fetch that pilgrim, and I told him to save your life. But far from coming to thank me for saving you, you now have the effrontery to bawl at me.”


Output:
“You’ve been very good to me, I must say,” retorted Monkey. “If you’d let me out to roam around enjoying myself as I pleased, that would have been fine. I was all right when you met me above the sea the other day, spoke a few unkind words, and told me to do all I could to help the Tang Priest. But why did you give him that hat he tricked me into wearing to torture me with? Why did you make this band grow into my head? Why did you teach him that Band-tightening Spell? Why did you make that old monk recite it over and over again so that my head ached and ached? You must be wanting to do me in.” The Bodhisattva smiled.

“You monkey. You don’t obey the commands of the faith, and you won’t accept the true reward, so if you weren’t under control like this you might rebel against Heaven again or get up to any kind of evil. If you got yourself into trouble as you did before, who would look after you? Without this monstrous head, you’d never be willing to enter our Yogacatin faith.”


Output:
“Very well then,” Monkey replied, “let’s call this object my monstrous head. But why did you send that criminal and evil dragon to become a monster here and eat my master’s horse? Letting evil creatures out to run amuck like that is a bad deed.”

“I personally asked the Jade Emperor to put the dragon here as a mount for the pilgrim,” said the Bodhisattva. “Do you think an ordinary horse would be able to cross the thousands of mountains and rivers to reach the Buddha-land on the Vulture Peak? Only a dragon horse will be able to do it.”

“But he’s so afraid of me that he’s skulking down there and won’t come out, so what’s to be done?” Monkey asked.


Output:
The Bodhisattva told the Revealer to go to the edge of the ravine and shout, “Come out, Prince Jade Dragon, son of the Dragon King Ao Run, to see the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea,” after which the offspring would emerge. The Revealer went to the edge of the gorge and shouted this twice, immediately the young dragon leapt up through the waves, took human form, stepped on a cloud, and greeted the Bodhisattva in mid-air.

“In my gratitude to you, Bodhisattva, for saving my life, I have been waiting here for a long time, but I have had no news yet of the pilgrim who is going to fetch the scriptures.” The Bodhisattva pointed to Brother Monkey and said, “Isn’t he the pilgrim’s great disciple?”


Output:
“He’s my enemy,” the young dragon replied when he looked at him. “I ate his horse yesterday because I was starving, so he used some powers of his to fight me till I returned exhausted and terrified, then swore at me so that I had to shut myself in, too frightened to come out. He never said a word about anyone fetching scriptures.”

“You never asked me my name, so how could I have told you?” Monkey retorted.

“I asked you ‘Where are you from, you bloody devil?’ and you yelled, ‘Never mind where I’m from, and give me back that horse.’ You never so much as breathed the word ‘Tang.’”

“You monkey, you are so proud of your own strength that you never have a good word for anyone else,” said the Bodhisattva.

“There will be others who join you later on your journey, and when they ask you any questions, the first thing you must mention is fetching the scriptures. If you do that, you’ll have their help without any trouble at all.”


Output:
Monkey was happy to accept instruction from her. The Bodhisattva then went forward, broke off some of the pearls from the dragon’s head, soaked the end of her willow twig in the sweet dew in her bottle, sprinkled it on the dragon’s body, and breathed on it with magic breath, shouted, and the dragon turned into the exact likeness of the original horse.

“You must concentrate on wiping out your past sins,” she told him, “and when you have succeeded, you will rise above ordinary dragons and be given back your golden body as a reward.” The young dragon took the bit between his teeth, and her words to heart. The Bodhisattva told Sun Wukong to take him to see Sanzang as she was returning to the Southern Sea. Monkey clung to her, refusing to let her go.


Output:
“I’m not going,” he said, “I’m not going. If the journey to the West is as tough as this, I can’t possibly keep this mortal priest safe, and if there are many such more trials and tribulations, I’ll have enough trouble keeping alive myself. How can I ever achieve any reward? I’m not going, I’m not going.”

“In the old days, before you had learned to be a human being,” the Bodhisattva replied, “you were prepared to work for your awakening with all your power. But now that you have been delivered from a Heaven-sent calamity, you have grown lazy. What’s the matter with you? In our faith, to achieve nirvana you must believe in good rewards. If you meet with injury or suffering in future, you have only to call on Heaven and Earth for them to respond; and if you get into a really hopeless situation I shall come to rescue you myself. Come over here as I have another power to give you.”


Output:
The Bodhisattva plucked three leaves from her willow twig, put them on the back of Brother Monkey’s head, and shouted “Change,” on which they turned into three life-saving hairs. “When the time comes and nobody else will help you,” she said, “they will turn into whatever is needed to save you from disaster.”

After hearing all these fine words, Monkey finally took his leave of the All-merciful Bodhisattva, who went back to Potaraka amidst scented breezes and coloured mists.

Monkey brought his cloud down to land, and led the dragon horse by the mane to see Sanzang. “Master,” he said, “we’ve got our horse.” Sanzang cheered up the moment he saw it.

“Why is it sturdier than it was before?” he asked. “Where did you find it?”

“Master, you must have been dreaming. The Golden-headed Revealer asked the Bodhisattva to come here, and she turned the dragon in the gorge into our white horse. The coloring is the same, but it hasn’t got a saddle or a bridle, which is why I had to drag it here.” Sanzang was astounded.


Output:
“Where’s the Bodhisattva? I must go and worship her,” he said.

“She’s back in the Southern Sea by now, so don’t bother,” Monkey replied. Sanzang took a pinch of earth as if he were burning incense, knelt down, and bowed to the South. When he had finished he got up and helped Monkey put their things together for the journey. Monkey dismissed the mountain god and the local deity, gave orders to the Revealer and the Duty Gods, and invited his master to mount the horse.

“I couldn’t possibly ride it—it’s got no saddle or bridle,” his master replied, “but we can sort this out when we’ve found a boat to ferry us across the stream.”

“Master, you seem to have no common sense at all. Where will a boat be found in these wild mountains? This horse has lived here for a long time and is bound to know about the currents, so you can ride him and use him as your boat.” Sanzang had no choice but to do as Monkey suggested and ride the horse bareback to the edge of the stream while Monkey carried the luggage.


Output:
An aged fisherman appeared upstream, punting a raft along with the current. As soon as he saw him, Monkey waved his hand and shouted, “Come here, fisherman, come here. We’re from the East, and we’re going to fetch the scriptures. My master is having some trouble crossing the river, so come and ferry him over.”

The fisherman punted towards them with all speed, while Monkey asked Sanzang to dismount and helped him on board the raft. Then he led the horse on and loaded the luggage, after which the fisherman pushed off and started punting with the speed of an arrow. Before they realized it they had crossed the Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge and were on the Western bank.

When Sanzang told Brother Monkey to open the bundle and find a few Great Tang coins and notes to give the fisherman, the old man pushed his raft off from the shore with the words, “I don’t want your money, I don’t want your money,” and drifted off into mid-stream. Sanzang was most upset, but could do nothing except put his hands together and thank him.


Output:
“There’s no need to thank him, master,” Monkey said. “Can’t you see who he is? He’s the water god of this stream, and I should be giving him a beating for not coming to welcome me. He should consider himself lucky to get off the beating—how could he possibly expect money too?” His master, who was only half-convinced, mounted the saddleless horse once more and followed Monkey to join the main path, and then they hurried on towards the West. Indeed:

The great truth landed on the opposite bank,

The sincere heart and complete nature climbed Vulture Peak.

As disciple and master went forward together, the sun slipped down in the West and evening drew in.

Pale and ragged clouds,

The moon dim over the mountains,

As the cold frost fills the heavens,

And the wind’s howl cuts through the body.

With the lone bird gone, the grey island seems vast;

Where the sunset glows, the distant mountains are low.

In the sparse forests a thousand trees moan,

On the deserted peak a lonely ape screams.


Output:
On the deserted peak a lonely ape screams.

The path is long, and bears no footprints,

As the boat sails thousands of miles into the night.

As Sanzang was gazing into the distance from the back of his horse, he noticed a farm-house beside the path. “Monkey,” he said, “let’s spend the night in the house ahead of us and go on in the morning.”

Monkey looked up and replied, “Master, it’s not a farm-house.”

“Why not?”

“A farm-house wouldn’t have all those decorative fishes and animals on the roof. It must be a temple or a nunnery.”

As they were talking they reached the gate, and when Sanzang dismounted he saw the words TEMPLE OF THE WARD ALTAR written large above the gate and went inside.


Output:
Here an old man with a rosary of pearls hanging round his neck came out to meet them with his hands held together and the words, “Please sit down, master.” Sanzang quickly returned his courtesies and entered the main building to pay his respects to the divine image. The old man told a servant to bring tea, and when that had been drunk Sanzang asked the old man why the temple was dedicated to the ward altar.

“This place is in the territory of the Western land of Kami,” the old man replied, “and behind the temple lives the devout farm family which built it. ‘Ward’ means the ward of a village, and the altar is the altar of the local tutelary deity. At the time of the spring ploughing, the summer weeding, the autumn harvest, and the storing away in winter they all bring meat, flowers, and fruit to sacrifice to the altar. They do this to ensure good fortune throughout the four seasons, a rich crop of the five grains, and good health for the six kinds of livestock.”


Output:
On hearing this Sanzang nodded and said in approval, “How true it is that ‘Go three miles from home, and you’re in another land.’ We have nothing as good as this in our country.” The old man then asked him where his home was.

“I come from the land of the Great Tang in the East,” Sanzang replied, “and I have imperial orders to go to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. As our journey brought us this way and it is almost night, we have come to this holy temple to ask for a night’s lodging. We shall set off at dawn.” The old man, who was very pleased to hear this, apologized profusely for having failed in his hospitality and told the servant to prepare a meal. When Sanzang had eaten he thanked the old man.

Monkey’s sharp eyes had noticed a clothes-line under the eaves of the building. He went over, tore it down, and hobbled the horse with it. “Where did you steal that horse from?” the old man asked with a smile.


Output:
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Monkey replied. “We’re holy monks going to visit the Buddha, so how could we possibly steal a horse.”

“If you didn’t steal it,” the old man continued, the smile still on his lips, “then why do you have to break my clothes-line because it’s got no saddle, bridle or reins?”


Output: Sanzang apologized for Monkey and said to him, “You’re too impatient, you naughty monkey. You could have asked the old gentleman for a piece of rope to tether the horse with. There was no need to snap his clothes-line. Please don’t be suspicious, sir,” Sanzang went on, addressing the old man. “This horse isn’t stolen, I can assure you. When we reached the Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge yesterday I was riding a white horse complete with saddle and bridle. We did not know that there was an evil dragon in the stream who had become a spirit, and this dragon swallowed my horse saddle, bridle and all, in a single gulp. Luckily this disciple of mine has certain powers, and he brought the Bodhisattva Guanyin to the side of the gorge, where she caught the dragon and changed it into a white horse, exactly like the original one, to carry me to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha. It’s been less than a day from when we crossed that stream to when we reached your holy shrine, sir, and we haven’t yet saddle or bridle for it.”


Output: “Please don’t be angry, Father. I was only joking,” the old man replied. “I never thought your respected disciple would take it seriously. When I was young I had a bit of money, and I was fond of riding a good horse, but many years of troubles and bereavement have taken the fire out of me, and I’ve come to this miserable end as a sacristan looking after the incense. Luckily the benefactor who owns the farm behind here provides me with the necessities of life. As it happens, I still have a saddle and bridle—I was so fond of them in the old days that I have never been able to bring myself to sell them, poor as I am. Now that I have heard, venerable master, how the Bodhisattva saved the divine dragon and changed it into a horse to carry you, I feel that I must help too, so I shall bring that saddle and bridle out tomorrow for you to ride on. I beg you to be gracious enough to accept them.”


Output:
Sanzang thanked him effusively. The servant boy had by now produced the evening meal, and when it was over they spread out their bedding, lamp in hand, and all went to sleep.

When Monkey got up the next morning he said, “Master, that old sacristan promised us the saddle and bridle last night. You must insist and not let him off.” Before the words were out of his mouth, the old man appeared with the saddle and bridle in his hands, as well as saddle-cloth, saddle-pad, reins, muzzle and all the other trappings for a horse. Nothing was missing.

As he put it all down in front of the verandah he said, “Master, I humbly offer this saddle and bridle.” When Sanzang saw them he accepted them with delight. Then he told Monkey to put them on the horse to see if they fitted him. Monkey went over and picked them up to look at them one by one: they were all fine pieces. There are some verses to prove it that go

The well-carved saddle shines with silver stars

The jeweled stirrups gleam with golden light.


Output:
The jeweled stirrups gleam with golden light.

Several layers of saddle-pads are made from wool,

The lead-rope is plaited from purple silk.

The reins are inlaid with flashing flowers,

The blinkers have dancing animals outlined in gold.

The bit is made of tempered steel,

And woollen tassels hang from either end.

Monkey, who was secretly very pleased, put the saddle and bridle on the horse and found that they fitted as if they had been made to measure. Sanzang knelt and bowed to the old man in thanks, at which the old man rushed forward and said, “No, no, how could I allow you to thank me?” The old man did not try to keep them a moment longer, and bade Sanzang mount the horse. When he was out of the gate Sanzang climbed into the saddle, while Monkey carried the luggage. The old man then produced a whip from his sleeve and offered it to Sanzang as he stood beside the road. Its handle was of rattan bound with leather, and its thong of tiger sinew bound at the end with silk.


Output:
“Holy monk,” he said, “I would also like to give you this as you leave.” As Sanzang took it sitting on horseback, he thanked the old man for his generosity.

As Sanzang was on the point of clasping his hands together to take his leave of him, the old man disappeared, and on turning round to look at the temple, the monk could see nothing but a stretch of empty land. He heard a voice saying in the sky, “Holy monk, we have been very abrupt with you. We are the mountain god and the local deity of Potaraka Island, and we were sent by the Bodhisattva Guanyin to give you the saddle and bridle. You two are now to make for the West as fast as you can, and not to slacken your pace for a moment.”


Output:
Sanzang tumbled out of the saddle in a panic, and worshipped the heavens, saying, “My eyes of flesh and my mortal body prevented me from recognizing you, noble gods; forgive me, I beg you. Please convey my gratitude to the Bodhisattva for her mercy.” Look at him, kowtowing to the sky more often than you could count. The Great Sage Sun Wukong, the Handsome Monkey King, was standing by the path overcome with laughter and beside himself with amusement. He went over and tugged at the Tang Priest.

“Master,” he said, “get up. They’re already much too far away to hear your prayers or see your kowtows, so why ever are you doing that?”

“Disciple,” Sanzang replied, “what do you mean by standing beside the path sneering at me and not even making a single bow while I’ve done all those kowtows?”


Output:
“You don’t know anything,” Monkey retorted. “A deceitful pair like that deserve a thrashing. I let them off out of respect for the Bodhisattva. That’s quite enough: they couldn’t expect me to bow to them too, could they? I’ve been a tough guy since I was a kid, and I don’t bow to anyone. Even when I meet the Jade Emperor or the Supreme Lord Lao Zi I just chant a ‘na-a-aw’ and that’s all.”

“You inhuman beast,” said Sanzang, “stop talking such nonsense. Get moving, and don’t hold us up a moment longer.” With that Sanzang rose to his feet and they set off to the West.


Output:
The next two months’ journey was peaceful, and they only met Luoluos, Huihuis, wolves, monsters, tigers, and leopards. The time passed quickly, and it was now early spring. They saw mountains and forests clad in emerald brocade as plants and trees put out shoots of green; and when all the plum blossom had fallen, the willows started coming into leaf. Master and disciple traveled along enjoying the beauties of spring, and they saw that the sun was setting in the West. Sanzang reined in his horse to look into the distance, and in the fold of a mountain he dimly discerned towers and halls.

“Wukong,” he said, “can you see if there’s anywhere we can go there?” Monkey looked and said, “It must be a temple or a monastery. Let’s get there quickly and spend the night there.” Sanzang willingly agreed, and giving his dragon horse a free rein he galloped towards it. If you don’t know what sort of place it was that they were going to, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

Chapter Sixteen


Output:
Chapter Sixteen

The Monks of the Guanyin Monastery Plot to Take the Treasure

The Monster of the Black Wind Mountain Steals the Cassock

The master whipped on his horse and hurried straight to the temple gate with his disciple to have a look. They saw that it was indeed a monastery:

Hall upon hall,

Cloister after cloister.

Beyond the triple gates

Countless coloured clouds are massed;

Before the Hall of Five Blessings

Coil a thousand wisps of red mist.

Two rows of pine and bamboo,

A forest of locust and cypress trees.

The two rows of pine and bamboo

Are ageless in their elegant purity;

The forest of locust and cypress trees

Has color and beauty.

See how high the drum and bell towers are,

How tall the pagoda.

In peaceful mediation the monks make firm their natures,

As birds sing in the trees outside.

Peace beyond mortal dust is the only true peace;

Emptiness with the Way is the real emptiness.

As the poem goes,

A supreme Jetavana hidden in a green valley,


Output:
A supreme Jetavana hidden in a green valley,

A monastery set in scenery unbeaten in the world.

Such pure lands are rare on earth;

On most of the famous mountains dwell monks.

Sanzang dismounted, Monkey laid down his burden, and they were just on the point of going in when a crowd of monks came out. This is how they were dressed:

On their heads they wore hats pinned on the left,

On their bodies were clothes of purity.

Copper rings hung from their ears,

And silken belts were tied around their waists.

Slowly they walked on sandals of straw,

As they held wooden clappers in their hands.

With their mouths they were always chanting

Their devotion to the Wisdom.

When Sanzang saw them he stood respectfully beside the gate and greeted them. A monk hastily returned his greeting and apologized for not noticing them before.

“Where are you from?” he asked, “please come to the abbot’s rooms and have some tea.”


Output:
“I have been sent from the East on an imperial mission to worship the Buddha in the Thunder Monastery and ask for the scriptures,” Sanzang replied, “and as it is almost night we would like to ask for a night’s lodging now that we are here.”

“Come inside and sit down, come inside and sit down,” the monk said. When Sanzang told Monkey to lead the horse over, the monk was frightened at the sudden sight of him and asked, “What’s that thing leading the horse?”

“Keep your voice down,” Sanzang urged, “keep your voice down. He has a quick temper, and if he hears you referring to him as ‘that thing,’ he’ll be furious. He’s my disciple.”

The monk shuddered and bit his finger as he remarked, “Fancy taking a monstrously ugly creature like that for a disciple.”

“He may not look it,” Sanzang replied, “but ugly as he is, he has his uses.”


Output: The monk had no choice but to go through the monastery gate with Sanzang and Monkey, and inside they saw the words CHAN MONASTERY OF GUANYIN written in large letters on the main hall. Sanzang was delighted.


Output:
“I have often been the grateful beneficiary of the Bodhisattva’s divine mercy,” he exclaimed, “but I have not yet been able to kowtow to her in thanks. To worship her in this monastery will be just as good as seeing her in person.” On hearing this, the monk, ordering a lay brother to open the doors, invited Sanzang to go in and worship. Monkey tethered the horse, put the luggage down, and went up into the hall with Sanzang, who prostrated himself and put his head on the floor before the golden statue. When the monk went to beat the drum, Monkey started striking the bell. Sanzang lay before the image, praying with all his heart, and when he had finished the monk stopped beating the drum. Monkey, however, was so engrossed in striking the bell, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, that he went on for a very long time.

“He’s finished his devotions,” a lay brother said, “so what are you still beating the bell for?”


Output:
Monkey threw down the bell hammer and said with a grin, “You’re ignorant, aren’t you? ‘Whoever is a monk for a day strikes the bell for a day’: that’s me.” By then all the monks in the monastery, senior and junior, as well as the abbot and his assistant, had been so startled by the wild noises from the bell that they all came crowding out to ask what savage was making such a din with the bell and drum. Monkey jumped out and cursed them: “Your grandfather Sun Wukong was having some fun.”

All the monks collapsed with shock at the sight of him and said as they knelt on the ground, “Lord Thunder God, Lord Thunder God.”

“The Thunder God is my great grandson,” Monkey replied. “Get up, get up, you’ve nothing to fear. I’m a lord from the land of the Great Tang empire in the East.” The monks all bowed to him, and could not feel easy until Sanzang appeared.


Output:
“Please come and drink tea in my rooms,” said the abbot of the monastery. The horse was unloaded and led off, while they went round the main hall to a room at the back where they sat down according to their seniority.

The abbot gave them tea and arranged for food to be brought, and after the meal it was still early. As Sanzang was expressing his thanks, two servant boys appeared behind them supporting an aged monk. This is what he looked like:

A Vairocana miter on his head

Topped with a gleaming cat’s-eye jewel.

On his body a gown of brocade,

Edged with gold-mounted kingfisher feathers.

A pair of monkish shoes studded with the Eight Treasures,

A walking stick inlaid with Clouds and stars.

A face covered with wrinkles,

Like the Old Goddess of Mount Li;

A pair of purblind eyes,

Like the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea.

His mouth can’t keep out the wind as his teeth have gone;

His back is bent because his muscles are stiff.


Output:
His back is bent because his muscles are stiff.

“The Patriarch has come,” the monks all said. Sanzang bowed low to him in greeting and said, “Your disciple pays his respects, venerable abbot.” The aged monk returned his greeting and they both sat down.

“The youngsters have just told me that gentlemen have come from the Tang Empire in the East,” he said, “so I have come out to see you.”

“Please forgive us for blundering into your monastery so rudely,” Sanzang replied.

“Don’t put it like that,” the aged monk said, going on to ask, “How long a journey is it from the Eastern lands to here?”

“It was over sixteen hundred miles from Chang’an to the Double Boundary Mountain, where I took on this disciple,” Sanzang replied. “We traveled on together through the land of Kami, and as that took two months we must have covered getting on for another two thousand miles before reaching here.”


Output:
“Over three thousand miles,” said the aged monk. “I have spent a life of piety and have never been outside the monastery gates, so you could really say that I have been ‘looking at heaven from the bottom of a well,’ and call mine a wasted life.”

“How great is your age, venerable abbot?” Sanzang asked.

“In my stupid way I have lived to be two hundred and seventy,” the old monk replied.

“Then you’re my ten-thousandth-great grandson,” put in Monkey.

“Talk properly,” said Sanzang, glaring at him, “Don’t be so disrespectful and rude.”

“How old are you, sir?” the aged monk asked.


Output:
“How old are you, sir?” the aged monk asked.

“I don’t venture to mention it,” Monkey replied. The aged monk then thought that he must have been raving, so he put the matter out of his mind, said no more about it, and ordered tea to be brought for them. A young page brought in three cloisonne teacups on a jade tray the color of mutton fat, and another carried in a white alloy teapot from which he poured out three cups of fragrant tea. It had a better color than pomegranate blossom, and its aroma was finer than cassia. When Sanzang saw all this he was full of praise.

“What splendid things,” he said, “what splendid things. Wonderful tea in wonderful vessels.”

“They’re not worth looking at,” the old monk replied. “After all, sir, you come from a superior and heavenly court, and have seen many rare things in your wide travels; so how can you give such exaggerated praise to things like that? What treasures did you bring with you from your superior country that I could have a look at?”


Output:
“I’m afraid our Eastern land has no great treasures, and even if it did, I would have been unable to bring them on so long a journey.”

“Master,” put in Monkey, who was sitting beside him, “isn’t that cassock I saw in our bundle the other day a treasure? Why don’t I take it out for him to see?” When the monks heard him mention the cassock, they smiled sinister smiles.

“What are you smiling at?” Monkey asked.


Output:
“What are you smiling at?” Monkey asked.

“We thought it was very funny when you said that a cassock was a treasure,” the abbot of the monastery replied. “A priest of my rank has two or three dozen, and our Patriarch, who has been a monk here for two hundred and fifty or sixty years, has seven or eight hundred.” He ordered them to be brought out and displayed. The old monk, who was also in on the game, told the lay brothers to open the store-rooms, while friars carried twelve chests out into the courtyard, and unlocked them. Then they set up clothes frames, put rope all around, shook the cassocks open one by one, and hung them up for Sanzang to see. Indeed, the whole building was full of brocade, and the four walls covered with silk.

Monkey examined them one by one and saw that some were made of brocade and some were embroidered with gold.

“Enough, enough, enough,” he said. “Put them away, put them away. I’ll bring ours out for you to take a look at.”


Output:
Sanzang drew Monkey aside and whispered to him, “Disciple, never try to compete with other people’s wealth, you and I are alone in this foreign land, and I’m afraid that there may be trouble.”

“What trouble can come from letting him look at the cassock?” Monkey asked.

“You don’t understand,” Sanzang replied. “The ancients used to say, ‘Don’t let greedy and treacherous men see rare or amusing things.’ If he lays his eyes on it, his mind will be disturbed, and if his mind is disturbed, he’s bound to start scheming. If you were cautious, you would only have let him see it if he’d insisted; but as it is, this is no trifling matter, and may well be the end of us.”


Output:
“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” said Brother Monkey, “I’ll look after everything.” Watch as without another word of argument he rushes off and opens the bundle, which is already giving off a radiant glow. It still had two layers of oiled paper round it, and when he removed it to take out the cassock and shake it open the hall was bathed in red light and clouds of coloured vapours filled the courtyard. When the monks saw it their hearts were filled with delight and their mouths with praise. It really was a fine cassock.

Hung with pearls of unrivalled quality,

Studded with Buddhist treasures infinitely rare.

Above and below a dragon beard sparkles,

On grass-cloth edged with brocade.

If it is worn, all demons are extinguished;

When donned it sends all monsters down to hell.

It was made by the hands of heavenly Immortals,

And none but a true monk should dare put it on.


Output:
And none but a true monk should dare put it on.

When the aged monk saw how rare a treasure it was, his heart was indeed disturbed. He went up to Sanzang and knelt before him. “My fate is indeed a wretched one,” he lamented, tears pouring down his cheeks. Sanzang helped him to his feet again and asked, “Why do you say that, venerable patriarch?”

“You have unfolded this treasure of yours, sir,” the aged monk replied, “when it is already evening, so that my eyes are too dim to see it clearly. That is why I say my fate is wretched.”

“Send for a candle and take another look,” Sanzang suggested.

“My lord, your precious cassock is already shining brightly, so I don’t think I would see more distinctly even if a candle were lit,” replied the aged monk.

“How would you like to look at it then?” asked Sanzang.


Output:
“If, sir, you were in your mercy to set aside your fears and let me take it to my room to examine it closely during the night, I will return it to you in the morning to take to the West. What do you say to that?” This request startled Sanzang, who grumbled at Brother Monkey, “It’s all your fault, all your fault.”

“He’s nothing to be frightened of.” Monkey replied with a grin. “I’ll pack it up and tell him to take it away to look at. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be responsible.”

As there was nothing he could do to stop him, Sanzang handed the cassock to the old monk with the words, “I’ll let you take it, but you must give it back to me tomorrow morning in the condition it’s in now. I won’t have you getting it at all dirty.”


Output:
The old monk gleefully told a page to take the cassock to his room, and instructed the other monks to sweep out the front meditation hall, move two rattan beds in, spread out the bedding on them, and invite the two gentlemen to spend the night there; he also arranged for them to be given breakfast and seen off the next morning. Then everyone went off to bed. Sanzang and his disciple shut the doors of the meditation hall and went to sleep.

After the old monk had tricked them into giving him the cassock, he held it under the lamp in the back room as he wept and wailed over it. This so alarmed the monks that none of them dared go to sleep before he did. The young page, not knowing what to do, went to tell the other monks, “Grandad’s still crying although it’s getting on for eleven.” Two junior monks, who were among the old man’s favorites, went over to ask him why he was crying.


Output:
“I’m crying because my accursed fate won’t allow me to see the Tang Priest’s treasure,” he said; to which they replied, “Grandad, in your old age you have succeeded. His cassock is laid before you, and all you have to do is open your eyes and look. There’s no need for tears.”

“But I can’t look at it for long,” the aged monk answered. “I’m two hundred and seventy this year, and I’ve collected all those hundreds of cassocks for nothing. However am I to get hold of that one of his? However am I to become like the Tang priest?”

“Master, you’ve got it all wrong,” the junior monks said. “The Tang Priest is a pilgrim far from home. You should be satisfied with your great seniority and wealth; why ever would you want to be a pilgrim like him?”

“Although I live at home and enjoy my declining years, I’ve got no cassock like his to wear,” the aged monk replied. “If I could wear it for a day, I would close my eyes in peace. I’d be as happy as if I were a monk in my next life.”


Output:
“What nonsense,” the junior monks said. “If you want to wear his cassock, there’ll be no problem about that. We’ll keep him for another day tomorrow, and you can wear it for another day. Or we can keep him for ten days and you can wear it for ten days. So why get so upset about it?”

“Even if we kept him for a year,” the old monk replied, “I’d only be able to wear it for a year, which wouldn’t bring me any glory. I’ll still have to give it to him when he went: I can’t keep him here for ever.”

As they were talking a young monk called Broad Wisdom spoke out. “Grandad,” he said, “if you want it for a long time, that’s easy to arrange too.”

“What brilliant idea have you got, child?” the aged monk asked, cheering up.


Output: “That Tang Priest and his disciple were so exhausted after their journey that they are both asleep by now,” Broad Wisdom replied. If we arm some strong monks with swords and spears to break into the meditation hall and kill them, they can be buried in the back garden, and nobody but us will be any the wiser. This way we get their white horse and their luggage as well as the cassock, which will become an heirloom of the monastery. We would be doing this for posterity.” The old monk was very pleased with this suggestion, and he wiped the tears from his eyes as he said, “Very good, very good, a marvellous plan.”


Output:
Another young monk called Broad Plans, a fellow-student of Broad Wisdom’s, came froward and said, “This plan’s no good. If we are to kill them, we’ll have to keep a sharp eye on them. That old pale-faced one looks easy enough, but the hairy-faced one could be tricky; and if by any chance we fail to kill him, we’ll be in deep trouble. I have a way that doesn’t involve using weapons, but I don’t know what you’ll think of it.”

“What do you suggest, my child?” the aged monk asked.


Output: “In my humble opinion,” he replied, “we should assemble the head monks of all the cells, senior and junior, and get everyone to put a bundle of firewood outside the meditation hall. When it’s set alight, those two will have no escape, and will be burnt to death together with their horse. Even if the people who live around this mountain see the blaze, they’ll think that those two burnt down the mediation hall by carelessly starting a fire. This way they’ll both be burnt to death and nobody will know how it happened. Then the cassock will become our monastery’s treasure for ever.” All the monks present were pleased with this suggestion, exclaiming, “Great, great, great; an even better plan.” The head of every cell was told to bring firewood, a scheme that was to bring death to the venerable and aged monk, and reduce the Guanyin Monastery to ashes. Now there were seventy or eighty cells in the monastery, and over two hundred junior and senior monks. They shifted firewood all night, piled it up all round the


Output: firewood all night, piled it up all round the meditation hall so that there was no way out, and prepared to set it alight.


Output:
Although Sanzang and he had gone to bed, the magical Monkey’s spirit remained alert and his eyes half open even when he was asleep. His suspicions were aroused by the sound of people moving around outside and the rustling of firewood in the breeze. “Why can I hear footsteps in the still of the night?” he wondered. “Perhaps bandits are planning to murder us.” He leaped out of bed, and was on the point of opening the door to take a look when he remembered that this might disturb his master, so instead he used his miraculous powers to turn himself into a bee with a shake of his body.

Sweet his mouth and venomous his tail,

Slender his waist and light his body.

He flew like an arrow, threading through willows and flowers,

Seeking their nectar like a shooting star.

A tiny body that could bear great weights,

Carried on the breeze by his frail and buzzing wings.

Thus did he emerge from under the rafters,

Going out to take a look.


Output:
Going out to take a look.

He saw that the monks had piled firewood and straw all around the meditation hall and were setting it alight. Smiling to himself he thought, “So my master was right. This is their idea. They want to kill us and keep our cassock. I wish I could lay into them with my cudgel. If only I wasn’t forbidden to use it, I could kill the lot of them; but the master would only be angry with me for murdering them. Too bad. I’ll just have to take my chances as they come, and finish them off.”

The splendid Monkey leapt in through the Southern Gate of Heaven with a single somersault, startling the heavenly warriors Pang, Liu, Gou and Bi into bowing, and Ma, Zhao, Wen and Guan into bending low as they all said, “Oh no, oh no! The fellow who turned Heaven upside down is here again.”

“There’s no need to stand on courtesy or be alarmed, gentlemen,” said Monkey with a wave of his hand, “I’ve come to find the Broad-Visioned Heavenly King.”


Output:
Before the words were out of his mouth the Heavenly King was there and greeting Monkey with, “Haven’t seen you for ages. I heard the other day that the Bodhisattva Guanyin came to see the Jade Emperor to borrow the four Duty Gods, the Six Dings and Jias and the Revealers of the Truth to look after the Tang Priest on his pilgrimage to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures. They were also saying that you were his disciple, so how is it that you have the spare time to come here?”

“Let’s cut the cackle,” said Monkey. “The Tang priest has run into some villains who have started a fire to burn him to death. It’s very urgent, which is why I’ve come to ask you for the loan of your Anti-fire Cover to save him with. Fetch it at once; I’ll bring it straight back.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” the Heavenly King replied. “If villains are trying to burn him, you should rescue him with water. What do you need my Anti-fire Cover for?”


Output:
“You don’t understand,” Monkey continued. “If I try to save him with water, he may still be hurt even if he isn’t burnt up. I can only keep him free from injury if you lend me that cover; and with that it doesn’t matter how much burning they do. Buck up, buck up! It may be too late already. Don’t mess up what I’ve got to do down there.”

“You monkey,” said the Heavenly King with a laugh, “You’re as wicked as ever, thinking only of yourself and never of others.”

“Hurry up, hurry up,” Monkey pleaded. “You’ll ruin everything if you go on nattering.” The Heavenly King, no longer able to refuse, handed the cover to Monkey.


Output:
Taking the cover, Monkey pressed down on his cloud and went straight to the roof of the meditation hall, where he spread the cover over the Tang Priest, the dragon horse, and the luggage. Then he went to sit on top of the aged monk’s room to protect the cassock. As he watched them starting the fire he kept on reciting a spell and blew some magic breath towards the Southwest, at which a wind arose and fanned the flames up into a wild and roaring blaze. What a fire!

Spreading black smoke,

Leaping red flames;

The spreading black smoke blotted out all the stars in the sky,

The leaping red flames made the earth glow red for hundreds of miles.

When it started

It was a gleaming golden snake;

Later on

It was a spirited horse.

The Three Spirits of the South showed their might,

The Fire God Huilu wielded his magic power,

The bone-dry kindling burned ferociously,

As when the Emperor Suiren drilled wood to start a fire.

Flames leapt up from the boiling oil before the doors,


Output:
Brighter than when Lord Lao Zi opens his furnace.

As the cruel fire spreads,

What can stop this willful murder?

Instead of dealing with the disaster

They abetted it.

As the wind fanned the fire.

The flames flew many miles high;

As the fire grew in the might of the wind,

Sparks burst through the Nine Heavens.

Cracking and banging,

Like firecrackers at the end of the year;

Popping and bursting,

Like cannon-fire in battle.

None of the Buddha statues could escape the blaze,

And the guardian gods in the Eastern court had nowhere to hide.

It was fiercer that the fire-attack at Red Cliff,

Or the burning of the Epang Palace.


Output:
Or the burning of the Epang Palace.

A single spark can start a prairie fire. In a few moments the raging wind had blown the fire up into an inferno, and the whole Guanyin Monastery was red. Look at the monks as they move away boxes and baskets, grabbing tables and carrying cooking-pots on their heads. The whole monastery was full of the sound of shouting and weeping. Brother Monkey protected the abbot’s rooms at the back, and the Anti-fire Cover covered the meditation hall in front; everywhere else the fire raged, its red flames reflected in the sky and its dazzling brightness shining through the wall.

When the fire broke out, all the animals and devils of the mountain were disturbed. Seven miles due South of the Guanyin Monastery was the Black Wind Mountain, on which there was a Black Wind Cave. In this cave a monster awoke and sat up. Seeing light streaming in through his window, he thought it must be dawn, but when he got up to take a better look he saw a fire blazing to the North.


Output: “Blimey,” the monster exclaimed with astonishment, “those careless monks must have set the Guanyin Monastery on fire. I’d better go and help them.” The good monster leapt off on a cloud and went down below the smoke and flames that reached up to the sky. The front halls were all empty, and the fire was burning bright in the cloisters on either side. He rushed forward with long strides and was just calling for water when he noticed that the rooms at the back were not burning as there was someone on the roof keeping the wind away. The moment he realized this and rushed in to look, he saw a magic glow and propitious vapours coming from a black felt bundle on the table. On opening it he found it contained a brocade cassock that was a rare treasure of the Buddhist religion. His mind disturbed by the sight of this valuable object, he forgot about putting out the fire or calling for water and grabbed the cassock, which he made off with in the general confusion. Then he went straight back to his cave by cloud.


Output:
The fire blazed on till dawn before burning itself out. The undraped monks howled and wailed as they searched through the ashes for bronze and iron, and picked over the cinders to find gold and silver. Some of them fixed up thatched shelters in what remained of the frames of the buildings, and others were rigging up pots to cook food at the bases of the exposed walls. We will not describe the weeping, the shouting and the confused hubbub.

Brother Monkey grabbed the Anti-fire Cover, took it back to the Southern Gate of Heaven with a single somersault, and returned it to the Broad-visioned Heavenly King with thanks. “Great Sage,” said the Heavenly King as he accepted it. “You are as good as your word. I was so worried that if you didn’t give me back my treasure, I’d never be able to find you and get it off you. Thank goodness you’ve returned it.”


Output:
“Am I the sort of bloke who’d cheat someone to his face?” asked Monkey. “After all, ‘If you return a thing properly when you borrow it, it’ll be easier to borrow it next time.’”

“As we haven’t met for so long, why don’t you come into the palace for a while?” said the Heavenly King.

“I’m no longer the man to ‘sit on the bench till it rots, talking about the universe,’” Monkey replied. “I’m too busy now that I have to look after the Tang Monk. Please excuse me.” Leaving with all speed, he went down on his cloud, and saw that the sun was rising as he went straight to the meditation hall, where he shook himself, turned into a bee, and flew in. On reverting to his true form he saw that his master was still sound asleep.

“Master, get up, it’s dawn,” he called.


Output:
“Master, get up, it’s dawn,” he called.

Sanzang woke up, rolled over, and said, “Yes, so it is.” When he had dressed he opened the doors, went outside, and saw the walls reddened and in ruins, and the halls and towers gone. “Goodness,” he exclaimed in great astonishment, “why have the buildings all disappeared? Why is there nothing but reddened walls?”

“You’re still asleep,” Monkey replied. “There was a fire last night.”

“Why didn’t I know about it?” Sanzang asked.

“I was protecting the meditation hall, and as I could see you were asleep, master, I didn’t disturb you,” Monkey replied.

“If you were able to protect the meditation hall, why didn’t you put out the fire in the other buildings?” Sanzang asked. Monkey laughed.

“I’ll tell you, master. What you predicted actually happened. They fancied that cassock of ours and planned to burn us to death. If I hadn’t noticed, we’d be bones and ashes by now.”

“Did they start the fire?” asked Sanzang who was horrified to learn this.

“Who else?” replied Monkey.


Output:
“Who else?” replied Monkey.

“Are you sure that you didn’t cook this up because they were rude to you?” Sanzang asked.

“I’m not such a rascal as to do a thing like that,” said Monkey. “Honestly and truly, they started it. Of course, when I saw how vicious they were I didn’t help put the blaze out. I helped them with a slight breeze instead.”

“Heavens! Heavens! When a fire starts you should bring water, not wind.”

“You must know the old saying—‘If people didn’t harm tigers, tigers wouldn’t hurt people.’ If they hadn’t started a fire, I wouldn’t have caused a wind.”

“Where’s the cassock? Don’t say that it’s been burnt too.”

“It’s all right; it hasn’t been burnt. The abbots’ cell where it was kept didn’t catch fire.”

“I don’t care what you say. If it’s come to any harm, I’ll recite that spell till it kills you.”


Output:
“Don’t do that,” pleaded Monkey desperately, “I promise to bring that cassock back to you. Wait while I fetch it for you, and then we’ll be on our way.” With Sanzang leading the horse, and Monkey carrying the luggage, they went out of the meditation hall and straight to the abbot’s lodgings at the back.

When the grief-stricken monks of the monastery suddenly saw master and disciple emerge with horse and luggage from the meditation hall they were terrified out of their wits, and screamed, “Their avenging ghosts have come to demand our lives.”

“What do you mean, avenging ghosts coming to demand your lives?” Monkey shouted. “Give us back our cassock at once.”

The monks all fell to their knees and kowtowed, saying, “Masters, wrongs are always avenged, and debts always have to be paid. If you want lives, it’s nothing to do with us; It was the old monk and Broad Plans who cooked up the plot to kill you. Please don’t punish us.”


Output:
Monkey snorted with anger and roared, “I’ll get you, you damned animals. Who asked for anyone’s life? Just bring out that cassock and we’ll be on our way.”

Two brave men from among the monks said, “Masters, you were burnt to death in the meditation hall, and now you come back to ask for the cassock. Are you men or ghosts?”

“You cattle,” sneered Monkey, “there wasn’t any fire. Go and look at the meditation hall and then we’ll see what you have to say.” The monks rose to their feet, and when they went forward to look, they saw that there was not even the slightest trace of scorching on the door and the window-frames. The monks, now struck with fear, realized that Sanzang was a divine priest, and Monkey a guardian god.


Output:
They all kowtowed to the pair of them and said, “Our eyes are blind. We failed to recognize saints sent down from Heaven. Your cassock is in the abbot’s rooms at the back.” Sanzang went past a number of ruined walls and buildings, sighing endlessly, and saw that the abbot’s rooms at the back had indeed not been burnt. The monks all rushed in shouting. “Grandad, the Tang priest is a saint, and instead of being burnt to death he’s wrecked our home. Bring the cassock out at once and give it back to him.”

Now the old monk had been unable to find the cassock, which coming on top of the destruction of the monastery had him distraught with worry. When the monks asked him for it, he was unable to reply. Seeing no way out of his quandary, he bent his head down and dashed it against the wall. He smashed his skull open and expired as his blood poured all over the floor. There are some verses about it:

Alas that the aged monk in his folly

Lived so long a life for nothing.


Output:
Lived so long a life for nothing.

He wanted the cassock as an heirloom for the monastery.

Forgetting that what is Buddha’s is not as mortal things.

As he took the changeable for the eternal,

His sorry end was quite inevitable.

What use were Broad Wisdom and Broad Plans?

To harm others for gain always fails.

The other monks began to howl in desperation, “Our Patriarch has dashed his brains out, and we can’t find the cassock, so whatever shall we do?”


Output: “I think you’ve hidden it somewhere,” Monkey said. “Come out, all of you, and bring me all the registers. I’m going to check that you’re all here.” The senior and junior abbots brought the two registers in which all the monks, novices, pages, and servants were registered. There were a total of two hundred and thirty names in them. Asking his master to sit in the place of honour, Monkey called out and marked off each of the names, making the monks open up their clothes for his inspection. When he had checked each one carefully there was no sign of the cassock. Then he searched carefully through all the boxes and baskets that had been saved from the flames, but again he could find no trace of it. Sanzang, now absolutely furious with Brother Monkey, started to recite the spell as he sat up high.


Output:
Monkey fell to the ground in great agony, clutching his head and pleading, “Stop, stop, I swear to return the cassock to you.” The monks, trembling at the sight, begged him to stop, and only then did he shut his mouth and desist.

Monkey leapt to his feet, took his iron cudgel from behind his ear, and was going to hit the monks when Sanzang shouted, “You ape, aren’t you afraid of another headache? Are you going to misbehave again? Don’t move your hand or hurt anyone. I want you to question them again instead.”


Output:
The monks all kowtowed to him and entreated him most pitifully to spare their lives. “We’ve honestly not seen it. It’s all that dead old bastard’s fault. After he saw your cassock yesterday evening he cried till late into the night, not even wanting to look at it as he worked out a plan by which it could belong to the monastery for ever. He wanted to burn you to death, masters, but when the fire started, a gale wind blew up, and we were all busy trying to put the blaze out and move away what stuff we could. We don’t know where the cassock went.”

Monkey went into the abbot’s quarters at the back in a great rage and carried out the corpse of the old monk who had killed himself. When he stripped the body he found no treasures on it, so he dug up the floor of his room to a depth of three feet, again without finding a sign of the cassock. Monkey thought for a moment and then asked, “Are there any monsters turned spirits around here?”


Output:
“If you hadn’t asked, sir, I’d never have imagined you wanted to know,” the abbot replied. “There is a mountain due South of here called the Black Wind Mountain, and in the Black Wind Cave-on it there lives a Great Black King. That old dead bastard of ours was always discussing the Way with him. There aren’t any other evil spirits apart from him.”

“How far is the mountain from here?” Monkey asked.

“Only about seven miles,” the abbot replied. “It’s the mountain you can see over there.”

Monkey smiled and said to Sanzang. “Don’t worry, master, there’s no need to ask any more questions. No doubt about it: it must have been stolen by that black monster.”

“But his place is seven miles from here, so how can you be sure it was him?” Sanzang asked.


Output:
“You didn’t see the fire last night,” Brother Monkey retorted. “The flames were leaping up hundreds of miles high, and the glow penetrated the triple heavens. You could have seen it seventy miles away, let alone seven. I’m convinced that he saw the glare and took the chance to slip over here quietly. When he saw that our cassock was a treasure, he must have stolen it in the confusion. Just wait while I go and find him.”

“If you go, who’s going to protect me?” asked Sanzang.


Output: “Don’t worry, gods are watching over you in secret, and in the visible sphere I’ll make these monks serve you.” With that he called the community together and said, “I want some of you to go and bury that old ghost, and some of you to serve my master and look after our white horse.” The monks all assented obediently, and Monkey continued, “I won’t have you agreeing glibly now but not waiting on them when I’ve gone. Those of you who look after my master must do so with pleasant expressions on your faces, and those who feed the horse must make sure he gets the right amount of hay and water. If there’s the slightest mistake, I’ll hit you like this.” He pulled out his cudgel, and smashed a fire-baked brick wall to smithereens; the shock from this shook down seven or eight more walls. At the sight of this the monks’ bones turned to jelly, and they knelt down and kowtowed to him with tears pouring down their cheeks.


Output:
“Don’t worry, master, you can go—we’ll look after him. We promise not to show any disrespect.” The splendid Monkey then went straight to the Black Wind Mountain with a leap of his somersault cloud to look for the cassock.

The Golden Cicada left the capital in search of the truth,

Leaning on his staff as he went to the distant West.

Along his route were tigers, leopards and wolves;

Few were the artisans, merchants, or scholars he met.

In a foreign land be encountered a stupid and covetous monk,

And depended entirely on the mighty Great Sage Equaling Heaven.

When fire and wind destroyed the monastery,

A black bear came one night to steal the silken cassock.

If you don’t know whether the cassock was found on this journey or how things turned out, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

Chapter Seventeen

Brother Monkey Makes Trouble on the Black Wind Mountain

Guanyin Subdues the Bear Spirit


Output:
Guanyin Subdues the Bear Spirit

As Monkey leapt up with a somersault, the senior and junior monks, the novices, the page-boys, and the servants of the monastery all bowed low to the sky and said, “Master, you must be a cloud-riding Immortal come down from Heaven. No wonder that fire can’t burn you. Damn that stupid old skinflint of ours: he destroyed himself with his own scheming.”

“Please rise, gentlemen,” replied Sanzang, “there’s no need to hate him. If my disciple finds the cassock our troubles will all come to an end; but if he doesn’t find it, he has rather a nasty temper and I’m afraid that none of you will escape with your lives.” When they heard this warning, the monks’ hearts were in their mouths, and they implored Heaven to let him find the cassock and spare their lives.

Once in mid-air, the Great Sage Sun Wukong reached at the Black Wind Mountain with one twist of his waist. Stopping his cloud while he took a careful look around, he saw that it was indeed a fine mountain. It was a spring day:


Output:
The myriad valleys’ streams compete,

A thousand precipices vie in beauty.

Where the birds call, no man is;

When the blossoms fall, the trees are still fragrant.

After the rain, the sky and the lowering cliff are moist;

As the pines bend in the wind, they spread an emerald screen.

The mountain herbs grow,

The wild flowers blossom,

Hanging over beetling crags;

The wild fig thrives

And fine trees flourish

On craggy range and flat-topped hill.

You meet no hermits,

And can find no wood-cutters.

Beside the stream a pair of cranes drink,

And wild apes gambol on the rocks.

Peaks like mussel-shells, gleaming black,

Lofty and green as they shine through the mist.


Output:
Lofty and green as they shine through the mist.

As Monkey was looking at the mountain scenery he heard voices from in front of the grassy slope. He slipped off to conceal himself under the rock-face and take a discreet look. He saw three fiends sitting on the ground. At the head was a dark fellow, to his left was a Taoist, and to his right a white-robed scholar, and they were all talking about lofty and broad matters: about refining cinnabar and mercury with tripods and cauldrons; and about the white snow, mercury, the yellow sprout, lead, and other esoteric teachings.

In the middle of this the dark fellow said, “As it’s my birthday tomorrow, I hope you two gentlemen will do me the honour of coming along.”

“We celebrate your birthday every year, Your Majesty,” the white-robed scholar replied, “so of course we shall come this year.”


Output:
“I came by a treasure last night,” the dark fellow went on, “a brocade cassock for a Buddha, and it’s a wonderful thing. I’m going to give a big banquet for it the day after tomorrow and I’m inviting all you mountain officials to come and congratulate me, which is why I’m calling it a ‘Buddha’s Robe Banquet.’”

“Wonderful, wonderful,” the Taoist exclaimed with a smile. “Tomorrow I’ll come to congratulate you on your birthday, and the day after I’ll come again for the banquet.”

As soon as Monkey heard him mention the Buddha’s robe he was sure it was their treasure, and unable to hold back his anger he leapt out from the cliff brandishing his gold-banded cudgel with both hands and shouting,

“I’ll get you, you gang of devils. You stole our cassock, and now you think you’re going to have a ‘Buddha’s Robe Banquet’. Give it back to me at once.”


Output:
“Don’t move,” he barked, swinging the cudgel and bringing it down towards the monster’s head. The dark fellow turned into a wind to flee in terror, and the Taoist rode off on a cloud; so Monkey was only able to slay the white-robed scholar with a blow from the club. When he dragged the body over to look at it, he saw that it was a white-patterned snake spirit. In his anger he picked the corpse up and tore it to pieces, then went into the recesses of the mountain in search of the dark fellow. Rounding a sharp pinnacle and traversing a dizzy precipice, he saw a cave palace in the cliff:

Thick, misty clouds,

Dense with cypress and pine.

The thick and misty clouds fill the gates with color;

The dense stands of cypress and pine surround the door with green.

For a bridge there is a dried-out log,

And wild fig coils around the mountain peaks.

Birds carry red petals to the cloud-filled valley;

Deer tread on scented bushes as they climb the stone tower.

Before the gates the season brings out flowers,


Output:
Before the gates the season brings out flowers,

As the wind wafts their fragrance.

Around the willows on the dike the golden orioles wheel;

Butterflies flit among the peach-trees on the bank.

This ordinary scene can yet compete

With lesser views in Fairyland.

When he reached the gates Monkey saw that they were very strongly fastened, and above them was a stone tablet inscribed with the words Black Wind Cave of the Black Wind Mountain in large letters. He brandished his cudgel and shouted, “Open up!” at which the junior devil who was on the gates opened them and asked, “Who are you, and how dare you come and attack our Immortals’ cave?”

“You damned cur,” Monkey railed at him. “How dare you call a place like this an ‘Immortals’ cave’? What right have you to use the word ‘Immortal’? Go in and tell that dark fellow of yours that if he gives back my cassock at once, I’ll spare your lives.”