Output:
“Test it then,” said Monkey. The idiot then picked up a stone and threw it into the water; they heard the bubbles rising as the stone sunk.

“It’s deep, too deep,” he said, “we’ll never get across.”

“You have tested for depth,” said the Tang Priest, “but we don’t know how wide it is.”

“I can’t tell that,” said Pig.

“Let me have a look,” said Monkey. The splendid Great Sage sprang up into mid-air on his cloud and took a good look. What he saw was:

The light of the moon immersed in the vastness,

The floating reflection of the limitless sky.

The magical stream has swallowed Mount Hua;

Hundreds of rivers flow into its waters.

Waves in their thousands rise and then fall,

Towering breakers crash without number.

No fisherman burns his fire by the shore;

The herons are all now asleep on the sand.

It is as turbid and huge as the ocean,

And there is no end to its water in sight.


Output:
And there is no end to its water in sight.

Monkey brought his cloud quickly down, put it away, and reported, “It’s wide, Master, very wide. We’ll never get across it. My fiery eyes with their golden pupils can see there hundred miles by day and distinguish good from evil too. By night they can see a hundred to a hundred and fifty miles. If even I can’t see the other bank goodness only knows how wide it is.”

Sanzang was speechless with shock, then he sobbed, “What are we to do, disciples?”

“Don’t cry, Master,” said Friar Sand. “There’s someone standing by the river over there.”


Output:
“I expect it’s a fisherman working his nets,” said Monkey. “I’ll go and ask him.” Monkey took his iron cudgel in his hand and was before the man in two or three bounds, only to discover that it was in fact a stone tablet on which was inscribed in an ancient script three words in large letters and nine words in two rows of little ones underneath. The three words written large were RIVER OF HEAVEN, and the words in small writing were “250 miles across; few travelers have ever been here.”

“Master,” called Monkey, “come and take a look.”

When Sanzang read this he said through his tears, “Disciple, when I left Chang’an all those years ago I thought that the Western Heaven would be easy to get to. I never knew that so many evil monsters would block my way, or that there would be such enormous mountains and rivers to cross.”


Output:
“Listen, Master,” said Pig. “Where is that sound of drums and cymbals coming from? It must be people holding a religious feast. Let’s go and get some of the food to eat and find out where there is a boat that will ferry us across tomorrow.” When Sanzang listened as he sat on the horse he could hear that it really was the sound of drums and cymbals.

“Those aren’t Taoist instruments,” he said. “It must be some Buddhist monks performing a ceremony. Let’s go there.” Monkey led the horse as they headed towards the music. There was no track to follow as they climbed and then lost height again and crossed sand banks until a village of some four or five hundred households came into sight. It was a fine settlement:

Protected by hills, beside the main road,

On the bank of the river, and watered by a stream.

All the wicket gates were shut;

Every household’s bamboo fence was closed.

Clear were the dreams of the egrets on the strand,

Silent the song of the birds by the willows.

No sound came from the flute,


Output:
No sound came from the flute,

Nothing was heard of the chopping-board’s rhythm.

The moon was rocked in stalks of knotweed;

The leaves of the rushes trembled in the wind.

Beside the fields the dogs barked through the fence;

The fisherman slept in his boat moored by the ford.

Few were the lights amid the stillness,

And the moon hung like a mirror in the sky,

A smell of duckweed wafted over

Carried by the wind from the Western bank.

When Sanzang dismounted he saw a house at the end of the road outside of which hung a silken banner. Inside it was bright with candles and lanterns, and there were clouds of incense.


Output:
“Wukong,” said Sanzang, “this is much better than a mountain hollow or the bank of a stream. Under the eaves we will be able to relax and sleep soundly, protected from the chilly dew. You all keep out of the way while I go to the gates of the believer’s house that is giving the religious feast to ask for shelter. If they invite me in I shall call you over. But don’t start playing it up if they don’t invite me in. If you show your ugly faces you might give them a terrible fright and cause trouble, and then we would have nowhere to stay.”

“You’re right,” said Monkey. “You go ahead, Master, while we wait here.”

The venerable elder then took off his rain hat, straightened his habit, took his monastic staff in his hand and went bareheaded to the gates, which were ajar. Not venturing to walk in uninvited, Sanzang stood there for a while until a very old man with prayer-beads round his neck who was repeating the name of Amitabha Buddha came out to shut the gate.


Output:
Sanzang at once put his hands together before his chest and said, “I salute you, benefactor.” The old man returned his greeting then said, “You’re too late, monk.”

“What do you mean?” Sanzang asked.

“You’re too late to get anything,” the old man said. “If you had been here earlier we were giving each monk a good meal, three pints of polished rice, a piece of white cloth, and ten copper cash. Why have you only come now?”

“Benefactor,” Sanzang replied, “I am not here to collect offerings.”

“If you’re not here for offerings, what are you here for then?” the old man asked.

“I have been sent by the Emperor of the Great Tang in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven,” Sanzang replied. “It was already late when I reached this village, and I have come here to beg for a night’s shelter because I heard the drums and cymbals. I will be on my way at dawn.”


Output:
The old man shook his hand at him as he replied, “Monk, men of religion should not tell lies. Great Tang in the East is 18,000 miles from here. How could you have come from there by yourself?”

“You are quite right, benefactor,” said Sanzang. “I have only been able to reach here because I have three disciples who protect me. They clear paths across mountains and build bridges across rivers.”

“If you have these disciples,” the old man said, “why aren’t they with you? But do come in. We have room for you to stay here.”

Sanzang then looked back and called, “Come here, disciples.”

As Monkey was impatient by nature, Pig coarse, and Friar Sand impetuous, the moment they heard their master calling they grabbed the horse’s bridle and the luggage and ran in, hell-bent for leather. The sight of them gave the old man such a shock that he collapsed, muttering, “Demons, demons.”

“Please don’t be afraid, benefactor,” said Sanzang. “They’re not demons, they are my disciples.”


Output:
“But how could so handsome a master have such hideous disciples?” asked the old man, still shivering and shaking.

“They may not be much to look at,” said Sanzang, “but they certainly know how to subdue dragons and tigers and capture monsters and demons.” The old man was not entirely convinced as he helped the Tang Priest inside.

The three ferocious disciples rushed to the main hall, tied the horse up outside and put the baggage down. Several monks were reciting sutras inside. Covering his long snout with his hands, Pig shouted, “What’s that sutra you’re reciting, monks?” The monks looked up when they heard his question.

They looked at the stranger and saw a long snout,

As well as a pair of big ears that stuck out.

His body was rough and his shoulders were broad;

When he opened his muzzle, like thunder he roared.

But as for our Monkey and good Friar Sand,

Their faces were more than a person could stand.

The monks saying their sutras within the main hall


Output:
Were terribly frightened and scared one and all.

The teacher continued the text to recite,

Until the head monk said they should stop for the night.

They paid no more heed to the chimes and the bell,

And the Buddha’s own images from their hands fell.

They all blew at once to put out every light,

And tried in their terror to scatter in flight.

They crawl on the ground as they stumble and fall,

And all of them trip getting out of that hall.

One old monk’s head with another one clashes

Just like the collapse of piled-up calabashes.

What once was a pure and a most holy rite

Was all now reduced to a comical sight.

The sight of the monks stumbling and crawling about made the three disciples clap their hands and laugh aloud, at which the monks were more terrified than ever. Colliding with each other’s heads they all fled for their lives and disappeared. By the time Sanzang helped the old man into the hall the lights had all been put out and the three of them were still chuckling away.


Output:
“Damned creatures,” said Sanzang, “you are all thoroughly evil, despite my daily teaching and advice. As the ancients said,

Only the saintly can become good without instruction;

Only the worthy can become good after instruction;

Only idiots will not become good even with instruction.

The disgraceful scene you’ve just made is one of the lowest and most stupid things I could possibly imagine. You charge in through the gates without any respect, make our elderly benefactor collapse in fright, send all the monks fleeing for their lives, and completely ruin their service. I shall have to take the blame for all of this.” None of them could find a word to say in their defense.

Only then did the old man believe that they really were Sanzang’s disciples, turn back, and say, “It’s nothing, sir, nothing. The lamps have just been put out and the flowers scattered as the service is ending anyhow.”


Output:
“If it’s over,” said Pig, “bring out the food and wine for the completion feast. We need a meal before we go to bed.” The old man called for oil lamps to be lit. The servants could not understand why.

“There are lots of incense sticks and candles where they’re saying surras in the main hall, so why does he want oil lamps lit?”

When some servants came out to look they found everything in darkness, so they lit torches and lanterns and rushed in together. When they looked inside and suddenly saw Pig and Friar Sand they dropped their torches in terror and fled, shutting the doors behind them, and fleeing to the inner part of the house with shout of “Demons, demons!”


Output:
Monkey picked up a torch, lit some lamps and candles, and pulled up an armchair for the Tang Priest to sit in while the disciples sat on either side of him. As they were sitting there talking they heard a door leading from the inner part of the house being opened. Another old man came in leaning on a stick and asking, “What evil spirits are you, coming to this pious household in the middle of the night?”

The first old man, who was sitting in front of them, rose and went to meet him behind the screen saying, “Stop shouting, elder brother. These aren’t demons. This is an arhat sent from Great Tang in the East to fetch the scriptures. His disciples may look evil but really they are very good.” Only then did the old man put his stick down and bow in greeting to the four of them, after which he too sat down in front of them and called for tea and vegetarian food. He shouted several times, but the servants were still quaking with terror and too frightened to come in.


Output:
This was more than Pig could put up with. “Old man,” he said, “you have an awful lot of servants. What have they all gone off to do?”

“I have sent them to fetch food to offer to you gentlemen,” the old man replied.

“How many of them will be serving the food?” asked Pig.

“Eight,” said the old man.

“Who will they be waiting on?” asked Pig.

“You four gentlemen,” the old man replied.

“Our master, the one with the white face, only needs one person to wait on him,” said Pig. “The one with hair cheeks whose mouth looks like a thunder god only needs two. That vicious-looking creature needs eight, and I must have twenty.”

“From what you say must be rather a big eater,” the old man remarked.

“You’re about right,” said Pig.

“We have enough servants,” the old man said, and by bringing together servants of all ages he produced thirty or forty of them.


Output:
As the monks talked to the old man the servants lost their fear and set a table in front of the Tang Priest, inviting him to take the place of honour. They then put three more tables on both sides of him, at which they asked the three disciples to sit, and another in front of these for the two old men. On the tables were neatly arranged some fruit, vegetables, pasta, rice, refreshments and pea-noodle soup. Sanzang raised his chopsticks and started to say a grace over the food, but the idiot, who was impatient and hungry to boot, did not wait for him to finish before grabbing a red lacquered wooden bowl of white rice that he scooped up and gulped down in a single mouthful.

“Sir,” said the servant standing beside him, “you didn’t think very carefully. If you are going to keep food in your sleeves shouldn’t you take steamed bread instead of rice that will get your clothes duty?”

“I didn’t put it in my sleeve,” chuckled Pig, “I ate it.”


Output:
“But you didn’t even open your mouth,” they said, “so how could you have eaten it?”

“Who is lying then?” said Pig. “I definitely ate it. If you don’t believe me I’ll eat another to show you.” The servants carried the rice over, filled a bowlful, and passed it to Pig, who had it down his throat in a flash.

“Sir,” said the astonished servants, “you must have a throat built of whetstones, it’s so smooth and slippery.” Pig had downed five or six bowls before the master could finish the short grace; only then did he pick up his chopsticks and start eating with them. The idiot grabbed whatever he could and bolted it, not caring whether it was rice or pasta, fruit or refreshments.

“More food, more food,” he shouted, until it gradually began to run out, “Brother,” said Monkey, “don’t eat so much. Make do with being half full. Anyhow, it’s better than starving in a mountain hollow.”

“What a horrible face you’re making,” said Pig. “As the saying goes,

The monk at a banquet who can’t eat his fill


Output:
The monk at a banquet who can’t eat his fill

Would rather be buried alive on the hill.”

“Clear the things away and pay no more attention to him,” said Monkey.

“We will be frank with you, reverend sirs,” said the two old men with bows. “We would have no problem in feeding a hundred or more reverend gentlemen with big bellies like him in the daytime, but it is late now and the remains of the maigre-feast have been put away. We only cooked a bushel of noodles, five bushels of rice and a few tables of vegetarian food to feed our neighbors and the clergy at the end of the service. We never imagined that you reverend gentlemen would turn up and put the monks to flight. We have not even been able to offer any food to our relations and neighbors as we have given it all to you. If you are still hungry we can have some more cooked.”

“Yes,” said Pig, “cook some more.”


Output:
“Yes,” said Pig, “cook some more.”

After this exchange the tables and other things used for the banquet were tidied away. Sanzang bowed to his hosts to thank them for the meal, then asked them their surname. “We are called Chen,” they replied.

“Then you are kinsmen of mine,” said Sanzang, putting his hands together in front of his chest.

“Is your surname Chen as Well?” the old men asked.

“Yes,” Sanzang replied, “Chen was my surname before I became a monk. May I ask why you were holding that religious feast just now?”

“Why brother to ask, Master?” said Pig with a laugh. “Anyone could tell you that it’s bound to have been a feast for the new crops, or for safety, or for the end of funeral ceremonies.”

“No, it was not,” the old men said.

“Then what was it for?” Sanzang asked.

“It was a feast to prepare for death,” the old men replied.


Output:
“You don’t know who you’re talking to,” said Pig, falling about with laughter. “We could build a bridge out of lies. We’re kings of deception. Don’t try to fool us. As monks we know all about maigre-feasts. There are only preparatory maigre-feasts for transferring money to the underworld and for fulfilling vows. Nobody’s died here, so why have a funeral feast?”

“This idiot’s learning a bit of sense,” chuckled Monkey to himself.

“Old man,” he said aloud, “what you said must be wrong. How can you have a feast to prepare for death?”

At this the two old men bowed and replied, “And if you were going to fetch the scriptures why did you come here instead of taking the main route?”

“We were on the main route,” replied Monkey, “but a river was in our way and we weren’t able to cross it. We came to your distinguished residence to ask for a night’s shelter because we heard the drums and cymbals.”

“What did you see by the side of the river?” one of the old men asked.


Output:
“Nothing but a stone tablet on which was written ‘River of Heaven’ above and ‘250 miles across; few travelers have ever been here’ underneath,” Monkey replied.

“Less than half a mile along the bank from the stone tablet is the Temple of the Great King of Miraculous Response,” the old man said. “Did you not see it?”

“No,” Monkey replied. “Would you old gentlemen tell me why he’s called ‘Miraculous Response?’”

The two old men burst into tears as they replied, “My lord, as for the Great King,

Because he responded a temple we built;

His miracles greatly the common folk helped.

He sends timely rain to the farms all about;

His clouds give their moisture to keep us from drought.”

“But if he sends timely rain and clouds he’s being kind to you,” said Brother Monkey, “so why are you so upset and miserable?” At this the old man stamped on the ground, beat his chest and wailed, “Master,

Great is our gratitude, greater our anger:

Although he is kind he is also a danger.


Output:
Although he is kind he is also a danger.

He is not one of the gods true and right—

To eat boys and girls is his evil delight.”

“He likes eating boys and girls?” Brother Monkey exclaimed.

“Yes,” replied the old man.

“I suppose it’s your family’s turn now,” said Monkey.

“Yes, this year it is our turn,” the old man said. “There are a hundred households living here. This place is called Chen Village, and it is in Yuanhui County of the Kingdom of Tarrycart. There is a sacrifice to the Great King every year at which a boy, a girl, pigs, sheep, oxen and wine have to be offered. If he gets his meal he gives us wind and rain at the right time; but if there is no sacrifice he sends disaster.”

“How many sons are there in your household?” Monkey asked.


Output:
The old man beat his breast and said, “Alas, alas, we die of shame when you speak of sons. This is my brother, Chen Qing, who is fifty-seven. I am Chen Cheng and am sixty-two. We have both found great difficulty in having children. As I had no son my friends and relations persuaded me to take a concubine when I was nearly fifty. I had no option but to find one and we had a daughter. She is just seven this year, and we call her Pan of Gold.”

“That’s a very grand name,” said Pig. “But why Pan of Gold?”

“Because we were childless we built bridges, repaired roads, contributed to putting up monasteries and pagodas, gave donations and fed monks. We kept an account of all this, and what with three ounces spent here and five spent there it added up to thirty pounds of gold by the time the girl was born. Thirty pounds is a pan of gold, and hence the name.”

“What about sons?” Monkey asked.

“My brother has a son who was also by a concubine. He is six this year, and we call him Chen Guan-given.”


Output:
“Why did you call him that?” Monkey asked. “In our family we worship Lord Guan Yu, and we called him Guan-given as it was from the statue of Lord Guan that we begged and obtained this son. My brother and I are 120 between us if you add our ages together, and these are our only two offspring. We never imagined that it would fall to us to provide the sacrificial offerings this year, and this is a duty we cannot escape. It is because as fathers we cannot bear to part from our children that we held this service to bring about rebirth, this maigre-feast to prepare for death.”

This brought the tears pouring down Sanzang’s cheeks as he replied, “This is what the ancients mean when they said,

Long before the ripe ones the green plums always fall;

The harshness of heaven hits the childless worst of all.”

Monkey smiled at this and said, “Let me ask some more questions. Tell me, sir, how much property does your family have?”


Output:
“Quite a lot,” the younger old man replied. “About seven hundred acres of paddy fields, a thousand acres of dry fields, eighty or ninety fields of hay, two or three hundred water-buffalo and oxen, twenty or thirty donkeys and horses, and goodness only knows how many pigs, sheep, chickens and geese. We have more old grain piled up at home than we can eat, and more clothes than we can wear. That is the extent of our family’s property.”

“It’s a pity you’re so stingy with all your wealth,” said Monkey.

“How can you accuse us of being stingy?” the old man asked.

“If you’re so rich,” said Monkey, “why give your own children to be sacrificed? You could buy a boy for fifty ounces and a girl for a hundred. With all the other expenses together it shouldn’t cost you more than two hundred ounces of silver to keep your own children. Wouldn’t that be better?”


Output:
To this the younger old man replied through his tears, “My lord, you don’t realize that the Great King is miraculously responsive, and that he often calls on this household.”

“If he comes here have you seen what he looks like and how tall he is?” asked Brother Monkey.

“We don’t see him,” the younger old man replied, “we just know that the Great King is coming when we smell a fragrant wind. Then we burn huge amounts of incense and all of us, young and old alike, prostrate ourselves in the direction of the wind. He knows every trifling detail about our household—even about our spoons and the bowls we use—and remembers all our dates of birth. He will only accept our own son and daughter. Never mind two or three hundred ounces of silver: we could not buy identical-looking children of exactly the same age for tens of thousands of ounces.”


Output:
“So it’s like that,” said Monkey. “Very well then, bring your son out for me to take a look at him.” Chen Qing hurried to the inner part of the house, brought Guan-given back with him into the hall, and set the boy down in front of the lamp. Not realizing the mortal danger he was in the little boy leapt about, filled his sleeves with fruit, ate and played around. Monkey looked at him, said a spell silently, shook himself, and made himself look just like Guan-given. Then the two boys started to jump and dance in front of the lamp, giving the two old men such a shock that they fell to their knees.

“That was a terrible thing for him to do, venerable sirs,” said Sanzang.


Output:
“But the gentleman was talking to us a moment ago,” said the old man. “How can he have turned into the exact likeness of my son? When you call them they respond and move together. This shock has shortened our lives. Please return to your normal appearance!” Monkey rubbed his face and was himself once more. “What powers you have, my lord,” said the old man, still on his knees.

“Was I like your son?” Monkey asked.

“Yes, just like him,” the old man replied. “Same face, same voice, same clothes, same height.”

“You didn’t look carefully enough,” said Monkey. “Get some scales and weigh me to see if I’m the same weight as him.”

“Yes, yes, the same weight,” the old man said.

“Would I do for the sacrifice like that?” asked Monkey.

“Perfect,” said the old man, “just perfect. You would be accepted.”


Output:
“I shall take the child’s place and keep him alive for your family to have descendants to burn incense to you,” said Monkey. “I shall be offered to the Great King instead.” At this Chen Qing kowtowed as he knelt there, saying, “My lord, if in your mercy you were to take his place I will give His Reverence the Tang Priest a thousand ounces of silver towards the cost of his journey to the Western Heaven.”

“Aren’t you going to reward me?” asked Monkey.

“But if you are sacrificed in the boy’s place it will be the end of you,” said the old man.

“What do you mean?” Monkey asked.

“The Great King will eat you,” the old man replied.

“He’d dare to eat me?” said Monkey.

“The only reason he might not eat you would be if he thought you would taste too high,” the old man said.

“Let Heaven do as it will,” said Monkey. “If I’m eaten up it’ll be because I’m fated to have a short life; and if I’m not eaten it’ll be because I’m lucky. Take me to the sacrifice.”


Output:
While Chen Qing kowtowed, expressed his thanks, and presented them with five hundred ounces of silver Chen Cheng neither kowtowed nor thanked Monkey, but leant against the doorway sobbing. As soon as Brother Monkey noticed this he went up to him, took hold of his clothes, and said, “Old man, is it because you can’t bear to lose your daughter that you’re not giving me anything or thanking me?”

Only then did Chen Cheng fall to his knees and reply, “Yes, I cannot bear to lose her. It is enough that in your great kindness you are saving my nephew by taking his place. But I have no son. She is my only child and she would weep for me bitterly after my death. I cannot bear to lose her.”


Output:
“Then you’d better go along at once and cook five bushels of rice and some good vegetarian dishes for that long-snouted venerable gentleman to eat. Then I’ll make him turn into the likeness of your daughter and the two of us will be able to take part in the sacrifice. We’ll see if we can do a meritorious deed and save your children’s lives.”

These words came as a great shock to Pig, who said, “Brother, if you turn yourself into a spirit and leave me to die you’ll be dragging me into disaster.”

“Brother,” said Monkey, “as the saying goes, a chicken doesn’t eat what it doesn’t earn. We came in here and were given an ample meal, but you had to complain that you were still hungry. Why aren’t you willing to help them in their crisis?”

“But, brother,” protested Pig, “I can’t do transformations.”

“You can do thirty-six transformations,” said Monkey. “How can you possibly deny that?”


Output:
“Wuneng,” Sanzang said to Pig, “what your brother says is absolutely correct, and he has made the right decision. As the saying goes, to save a human life is better than building a seven-storied pagoda. If you do this you will be thanking our hosts for their generous hospitality and accumulating good karma for yourself. Besides, it will be fun for you and your brother on this cool night when you have nothing else to do.”

“What are you saying, Master?” said Pig. “I can only change into a hill, a tree, a rock, a scabby elephant, a water-buffalo or a big, fat man. It’d be pretty hard for me to turn into a little girl.”

“Pay no attention to him,” said Monkey to Chen Cheng, “but bring your daughter out for me to see.”


Output:
Chen Cheng then hurried inside and came back into the hall with Pan of Gold in his arms; and everyone in the household, young and old, wives and concubines, members of the family and other relations, all came in to kowtow and beg Monkey to save the child’s life. Round her hair the little girl was wearing a patterned turquoise headband from which hung ornaments representing the eight precious things. Her jacket was of red and yellow shot ramie, and over is she wore a cape in green imperial satin with a checked collar. Her skirt was of scarlet flowered silk, her shoes were of pink ramie and shaped like frogs’ heads, and her trousers were of raw silk with gold thread. She was holding a piece of fruit in her hand and eating it.

“There’s the girl,” said Monkey. “Make yourself like her at once. We’re off to the sacrifice.”

“But she’s much too small and delicate for me to turn into, brother,” said Pig.

“Hurry up if you don’t want me to hit you,” said Monkey.


Output:
“Don’t hit me,” pleaded Pig in desperation. “I’ll see if I can make the change.”

The idiot then said the words of a spell, shook his head several times, called “Change!” and really did make his head look like the little girl’s. The only troubles was that his belly was still much too fat and disproportionately big.

“Change some more,” said Monkey with a laugh.

“Hit me then,” said Pig. “I can’t change any more, and that’s that.”

“But you can’t have a little girl’s head on a monk’s body,” said Monkey. “You won’t do at all like that—you’re neither a man nor a girl. Do the Dipper star-steps.” Monkey then blew on him with magic breath and in fact did change his body to make it look like the little girl’s.


Output:
“Will you two old gentlemen please take the young master and the young lady inside and make no mistake about who they are,” said Monkey. “My brother and I will be trying to dodge the monster and fooling around, and we may come in here, so that it will be hard to tell us from the real children. Have some fruit ready for them to eat and don’t let them cry, in case the Great King notices and our secret gets out. Now we’re off to see if we can fool him.”

The splendid Great Sage then told Friar Sand to look after the Tang Priest while Pig and he changed into Chen Guan-given and Pan of Gold. When the two of them were ready Monkey asked, “How are the victims presented? Tied up in a bundle, or with their hands roped together? Are they steamed or chopped up into little bits?”

“Brother,” pleaded Pig, “don’t do me down. I haven’t got those magic powers.”


Output:
“We would never dare to,” said the old men. “We would just like you two gentlemen each to sit in a red lacquer dish that would be put on a table. You would then be carried into the temple on the tables by a pair of youngsters.”

“Fine, fine,” said Monkey. “Bring the dishes in here for us to try out.” The old men sent for the two red dishes, in which Monkey and Pig sat while four young men carried them for a few steps in the courtyard before setting them down again in the hall. “Pig,” said Monkey with delight, “being carried around on dishes like this makes us like abbots sitting in the seats of honour.”

“I wouldn’t be at all scared of being carried in and out of here till dawn,” said Pig, “but being carried into the temple to be eaten is no joke.”

“Just watch me,” said Brother Monkey, “and run away when he eats me.”

“How do you know who he’ll eat first?” said Pig. “If he eats the boy first I’ll be able to get away; but what shall I do if he eats the girl first?”


Output:
At this one of the old men said, “During the sacrifices in other years some of the bolder of us have slipped into the back of the temple or hidden under the tables on which the offerings were made. They have seen that he eats the boy first and the girl afterwards.”

“Thank goodness,” said Pig, “thank goodness.”

While the two brother-disciples were talking they heard a mighty noise of gongs and drums and a blaze of lights outside as the villagers opened the front gates and poured in, shouting, “Bring out the boy and the girl.” The four young men then carried Monkey and Pig out to the sobs and wails of the old men.

If you do not know whether they lost their lives or not, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

Chapter Fourty-Eight

A Devilish Blizzard Makes the Snow Whirl

The Monk Who Seeks to Worship Buddha Walks on Ice


Output: The story tells how the believers in Chen Village noisily carried Monkey and Pig with pork, mutton, beef and wine straight to the Temple of Miraculous Response, where they set them all out with the young boy and girl in the most prominent place. Monkey looked around and saw that the offertory tables were covered with fragrant flowers and wax candles. In front of him was a tablet on which were inscribed in letters of gold, GREAT KING OF MIRACULOUS RESPONSE. There were no statues of any other gods. When the believers had set everything out properly they all kowtowed and made this prayer:


Output:
“Great King, our lord, at this hour of this day of this month of this year Chen Cheng, the master of the sacrifice, and all the other faithful of different ages beg to offer in accordance with annual custom the little boy Chen Guan-given, the little girl Pan of Gold, pork, mutton, beef and wine for the delectation of the Great King. We beg you to give us the right amounts of wind and rain and to grant a good harvest for all our crops.” After praying they burnt paper horses and all went home.

When they had all gone Pig said to Monkey, “Let’s go home.”

“Where’s your home?” Monkey asked.

“Let’s go back to old Chen’s place for a sleep,” Pig replied.

“You’re talking nonsense again, idiot,” said Monkey. “You’ve made them a promise and now you’ve got to fulfil their wish.”

“You’re the idiot, not me, despite what you’ve always saying,” replied Pig. “Why don’t we just take him for a ride. You can’t be serious about us being sacrificed for them.”


Output:
“Always finish what you begin,” said Monkey. “We’ll only be able to tidy this business up if we stay here till the Great King comes to eat us up. Otherwise we’ll make him cause disasters, which would be terrible.”

As they were talking they heard the howling of a wind outside. “This is terrible,” said Pig. “What made the wind come?” “

Shut up,” said Monkey, “while I cope.” A moment later an evil creature came in through the temple doors. Look at him:

Gold armor, golden helmet, shining bright;

Red clouds enfold the jade belt at his waist.

His eyes were gleaming like the stars at night,

His teeth resembled those on a pair of saws.

Under his feet wafted sunset clouds;

Warm and scented were the mists all around.

Cold blew the negative winds as he walked;

Heavy lay the air of death where he stood.

He was just like an officer guarding an emperor,

Or a god at the gateway protecting a monastery.

The monster stood blocking the entrance to the temple and asked, “Who is making the sacrifice this year?”


Output:
“Thank you for asking,” Monkey replied. “This year the village heads are the family of Chen Cheng and Chen Qing.” This reply struck the monster as very odd.

“That boy has a lot of courage,” he thought, “and he’s a good talker too. Usually the children who are offered say nothing the first time I ask them a question and are frightened out of their wits the second time. Before I’ve even grabbed them in my hand they are already dead. So why’s this boy today so good at answering?”

Instead of seizing him the monster asked another question: “What is your name, boy?”

“My name is Chen Guan-given, and the girl is called Pan of Gold.”

“According to the old custom of this sacrifice I should eat you first,” said the monster.

“I have no objection,” said Brother Monkey. “Enjoy your meal.”

Hearing this the monster was once more afraid to grab Monkey, so instead he blocked the doorway and shouted, “I’ll have none of your answering back. Usually I eat the boy first, but this year I shall start with the girl.”


Output:
“Better to follow the old custom,” said Pig in a panic. “Don’t break with tradition.”

Without any more discussion the monster made a grab for Pig, who leapt down, turned back into himself, and struck at the monster’s hand with his rake. The monster pulled his hand back and fled. All that could be heard was a mighty clang. “I’ve smashed his armor,” exclaimed Pig.

Monkey, who had resumed his own true form as well, looked, saw two fish scales the size of an ice dish, and gave a shout of “After him!”

The two of them sprang up into the air, where the monster, who had come unarmed to his feast, asked them from a cloud, “Where are you from, monks, and why have you come here to bully me, spoil my offerings, and ruin my reputation?”


Output: “What you don’t realize, damned monster,” Monkey replied, “is that we are disciples of the holy priest Sanzang from Great Tang in the East who has been sent by his emperor to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. We were spending last night at the Chen household when were told that an evil spirit pretending to be Miraculous Response demands the sacrifice of a boy and a girl every year. In our mercy we decided to save life and capture you, damned monster. You’d better make a full and true confession at once. How long have you been here calling yourself ‘Great King,’ and at two a year how many little boys and girls have you eaten? Given me a full account and return them to me if you want your life spared.” At that the monster fled, avoiding another blow that Pig struck at him with his rake. He turned into a wild wind and went straight into the River of Heaven.


Output:
“No need to chase him,” said Monkey. “I’m sure the monster’s a river creature. We’ll have to work out a way of catching him and getting the master across the river tomorrow.” Pig accepted this suggestion and went straight back to the temple, from where he carried the offerings of pork, mutton and wine, tables and all, back to the Chen house. The Tang Priest, Friar Sand and the Chen brothers were waiting for news in the hall when they saw Monkey and Pig burst in and put all the pork, mutton and other offerings in the courtyard.

“What happened in the sacrifice, Wukong?” Sanzang asked Monkey, who related how he had told the monster who he was and chased him into the river, to the immense delight of the two old gentlemen, who ordered that the side rooms were to be swept out and furnished with beds. Here the master and his disciples were invited to spend the night.


Output:
Having escaped with his life back to the river the monster sat brooding silently in his palace while his river clansmen asked him, “Why are you so upset this year, Your Majesty? Usually you are very happy when you come back from eating your sacrifice.”

“In ordinary years I bring you back some left-overs after the sacrifice,” said the monster, “but I did not even have anything to eat myself today. My luck was out. I met enemies who all but killed me.”

“Who, Your Majesty?”


Output:
“Who, Your Majesty?”

“Disciples of a holy priest from Great Tang in the East who is going to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and fetch the scriptures. They had turned themselves into a boy and a girl and were sitting in my temple. When they turned back into themselves they almost killed me. I’ve long heard people tell of Tang Sanzang, a holy man who has cultivated his conduct for ten lifetimes: one piece of his flesh will make you immortal. But I never expected he would have disciples such as those. He’s ruined my reputation and stopped them worshipping me any more. I wish I could capture that Tang Priest, but I don’t think I can.”

From among the watery tribe there slipped forward a female mandarin fish in patterned clothes. She advanced with small, respectful steps towards the monster, bowing frequently as she said, “Your Majesty, there will be no problem about catching the Tang Priest. But if you do capture him will you reward me with a feast?”


Output:
“If you have a plan we shall combine our efforts to catch the Tang Priest,” the monster said. “I shall take you as my sworn sister, and we shall eat his flesh together.”

The mandarin fish bowed in thanks then said, “I have long known that Your Majesty has the powers to call up wind and rain, or to throw rivers and sea into turmoil. But can you make it snow?”

“Yes,” the monster replied. “As you can make it snow,” the mandarin fish continued, “can you also cause cold and make ice?”

“I’m even better at that,” the monster said. The fish then clapped her hands with delight and said, “In that case it will be very, very easy.”

“Will you tell me this very easy way of succeeding?” the monster asked.


Output: “Your Majesty must lose no time,” the fish replied. “It’s now the third watch, about midnight. You must make magic to cause a cold wind and a heavy fall of snow at once. The River of Heaven must be frozen solid. Those of us who are good at transformations will make ourselves look like people and appear at the end of the track with packs on our backs, carrying umbrellas and luggage poles and pushing carts. We shall walk across the ice in an endless stream. That Tang Priest is so impatient to fetch the scriptures that when he sees all those people walking along he’s bound to want to cross the ice himself. All Your Majesty needs to do is to sit quietly in the middle of the river until you hear his footsteps, then crack the ice apart so that he and his disciples all fall into the water. They’ll all be caught in one package.”


Output:
“Marvellous, marvellous,” exclaimed the monster, who was utterly delighted at the suggestion. He left his watery palace and went up into the sky, where he caused winds and snow, and made it so cold that the river froze.

The Tang Priest and his three disciples slept in the Chen house. Shortly before dawn they all began to feel very cold in their bedding. Pig was shivering, unable to get back to sleep, so he called, “Brother, it’s cold.”

“Idiot,” said Monkey, “you’ve got no sense of how to behave. Monks are not affected by summer or winter. You shouldn’t mind the cold.”

“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “it really is cold. Look:

Double quilts now give no warmth,

Hands put in sleeves find only ice.

Strands of frost grow from withered leaves,

Frozen bells hang from frozen pines.

The cold is so intense the earth splits open;

The water in the pond is a solid block.

No old man can be seen in the fisherman’s boat;

No monk is to be met with in the mountain temple.

The woodman wishes he could gather more fuel;


Output:
The woodman wishes he could gather more fuel;

The prince is glad to pile more charcoal on the flames.

Travelers’ beards are turned to iron;

The poet’s brush is water-chestnut hard.

Even a fur jacket now seems too thin;

A marten coat feels much too light.

The monk on his hassock is frozen rigid;

Behind the paper screen the traveler is scared.

Even in many a layer of bedding

One shivers and shakes from top to toe.

As neither master nor disciples could sleep they rose and dressed. When they opened the door to look outside they saw to their astonishment a vast expanse of white. It was snowing. “No wonder we were so cold,” said Monkey, “if it’s been snowing so heavily.” When the four of them looked they saw that it was a splendid fall:

Dark masses of cloud,

Chilling, dreary mists.

Under dark masses of cloud

The North wind howls cold;

Through chilling, dreary mists

A heavy snowfall blankets the ground.

Indeed:

The six-sided snowflakes

Are flying jewels;

In the great forest


Output:
Are flying jewels;

In the great forest

Jade hangs from every tree.

First like flour, then like salt.

The white parrot loses its whiteness,

The crane’s feathers no longer stand out.

It adds to the waters of a thousand rivers,

Outdoes the plum-trees in the Southeast.

As if three million dragons of jade were defeated,

The sky is filled with fragments of armor and scales.

Here you will not find Dongguo’s soleless sandals,

The bed where Yuan An froze to death,

The place where Sun Kang studied in the snow’s reflected light,

The boat that Wang Ziyou took one snowy night,

Wang Gong’s cloak,

Or the rug that Su Wu had to eat.

All you will see are village houses set like inlaid silver,

Three thousand miles of jade-like river and hills.

What splendid snow,

Sprinkling the bridge with willow catkins,

Covering the cottage with pear blossom.

When the bridge is sprinkled with willow catkins,

The fisherman beside it dons his cape of straw;

When the cottage is covered with pear blossom


Output:
When the cottage is covered with pear blossom

The old man inside bums his firewood.

The traveler is hard put to it to buy a drink;

The slave cannot find the plum blossom for which be is sent.

The heavy fall of snow takes off the butterfly’s wings,

The howling blizzard strips the goose of its feathers.

Rolling drifts are blown by the winds;

Layer upon layer hides the road.

Freezing gusts come through the curtains,

A chilly wind blows into the bed.

This is Heaven’s promise of a good harvest,

Good news that is cause for celebration.

The snow was falling in abundance like fragments of jade or cotton wool. When master and disciples had sighed in admiration of it for a long time the two old Chen brothers told two servants to sweep a way through the snow and two more to bring the monks hot water with which to wash their faces. A little later boiling hot tea, cheesecakes and a charcoal stove were all carried out to the side room, where master and disciple sat around them.


Output:
“Venerable benefactor,” the Tang Priest asked, “could you tell me if you distinguish between the seasons of the year here?”

“This may be a remote place,” said the old man, “and our customs and people may be different from those in your distinguished land, but our crops and animals grow under the same sky, so of course we distinguish between the four seasons.”

“In that case why is there such heavy snow today, and why is it so cold?” Sanzang asked.

“Although it has been August,” the old man replied, “the frost last night marked the beginning of September. We generally have frost and snow here in September.”

“That is different from the East,” said Sanzang. “We have frost and snow in the winter.”

As they were talking servants came in with tables and invited them to take some porridge. By the time they had finished eating the snow was heavier than ever and before long it lay two feet deep. Sanzang began to weep with anxiety.


Output: “Please don’t worry so,” said old Mr. Chen, “and don’t be upset because the snow is deep. We have plenty of grain here, enough to feed you venerable gentlemen for half a lifetime.”


Output: “You do not know why I am suffering, benefactor,” Sanzang replied. “When all those years ago His Majesty the Tang Emperor graciously commanded me to make this journey and escorted me in person by carriage to the frontier pass he offered me a parting meal with his own hands, asking me when I would be back. I did not realize how many difficult mountains and rivers would lie in my way, so I casually replied that I could be back with the scriptures in three years. It is now already seven or eight years since I left and I have yet to gaze on the face of the Buddha. I am worried that I have exceeded His Majesty’s time limit and afraid of all the evil monsters and other vicious creatures ahead. Today I have had the good fortune to stay in your great mansion, and last night my disciples were able to thank you by doing you a small favour. I was hoping to ask for a boat to ferry us across the river, never expecting that Heaven would send this heavy fall of snow. Now the roads are blocked and I do not know when I shall


Output: roads are blocked and I do not know when I shall complete my mission and return home.”


Output:
“Do not worry, sir,” said old Mr. Chen. “Most of the time for your journey has already passed. You will only have to wait here a few days for the skies to clear and the ice to melt, then we will spend everything we have to see you across the river.”

A servant then came in to invite them to breakfast, which they ate in the main hall, followed not long afterwards by lunch. Sanzang felt embarrassed by all this lavish hospitality, so he said repeatedly, “As you are being so kind as to let us stay we must insist on eating more ordinary fare.”

“Venerable sir,” Mr. Chen replied, “we are so grateful for having the children saved from the sacrifice that we could not thank you enough even if we gave you banquets every day.”

After this the snow stopped and people began to move around. Seeing how unhappy Sanzang was, old Mr. Chen had the garden swept and a fire made in a brazier, then invited them to the snow-cave to cheer themselves up by enjoying the snow view.


Output:
“What a silly idea,” laughed Pig. “Spring is the time for enjoying gardens. It’s much too cold in all this snow, and anyhow there’s nothing to be seen now.”

“You don’t know anything, you idiot,” said Monkey. “Snowscapes are very peaceful and elegant. It will be a pleasure to see them and it will make the master feel better too.”

“That’s right, that’s right,” said old Mr. Chen. The visitors were then taken into the garden and this is what they saw:

Although it was autumn

The scenery was winter’s.

Jade stamens formed on the hoary pine,

Silvery flowers hung from the dying willow.

Powder was piled on the lichen by the steps,

Jeweled shoots sprang from the bamboo at the window.

The craggy mountain tops,

The fishpond.

On the craggy mountain tops

The sharp and pointed peaks were like jade bamboo.

In the fishpond

The clear and living water now was ice,

Gone was the beauty of the lotus by the bank;

The rose of Sharon’s delicate fronds hung low.

The autumn begonia

Was weighed right down;


Output:
The autumn begonia

Was weighed right down;

The winter plum

Was just putting out new growth.

The Peony Pavilion,

The Pomegranate Pavilion,

The Osmanthus Pavilion,

All piled deep in goose-down;

The Place for Forgetting Cares,

The Place for Entertaining Visitors,

The Place for Recreation,

All covered as if with butterflies’ wings.

The yellow chrysanthemums by the fence were woven of jade and gold;

A few maples were dappled white and red.

Many a courtyard was too cold to enter:

The sight of the snow-cave made one feel like ice.

Here was set a brazier of bronze,

With heads of animals and legs like elephants,

Where a toasting-hot fire of charcoal burnt,

And some lacquered armchairs

With cushions of tigerskin

And screens of paper set all around for warmth.

On the walls were hung ancient paintings by famous artists, showing:

The Seven Worthies going out through the pass,

A solitary fisherman on a cold river,

Amid a landscape of snowy peaks and mountains.

Su Wu eating his rug,


Output:
Su Wu eating his rug,

Breaking off plum branches to meet the envoys,

And writing in the cold of a frozen forest.

There was no end of

Houses near a river pavilion where fish can be bought,

Mountain tracks buried in snow where no wine is on sale.

Were it big enough to live in

Who would need to go to magical Penghu?

After they had admired the scenery for a long time they sat down in the snow-cave and told the elderly neighbors about their mission to fetch the scriptures. When they had drunk the fragrant tea old Mr. Chen said, “Venerable gentlemen, may I offer you some wine?”

“As a monk I do not drink,” replied Sanzang, “but my disciples may drink a few cups.” The old man was delighted.

“Bring vegetarian food,” he ordered, “and warm some wine to keep the cold out of these gentlemen.” Servants then carried out tables that were set round the brazier. They all drank several cups with the two elderly neighbors, then everything was tidied away.


Output:
By now it was getting late, and the visitors were invited back into the hall for an evening meal. They could hear passers-by in the street saying, “Oh! It’s cold today. The River of Heaven is frozen solid.”

“That’s terrible,” said Sanzang to Brother Monkey. “The river’s frozen.”

“In a sudden cold snap like this I think that only the shallow water near the bank can have frozen,” said old Mr. Chen. Then another passer-by said, “The whole 250 miles of it are frozen as smooth as a mirror, and some people are setting out across it from where the road ends.” Hearing that people were walking across, Sanzang wanted to go out and take a look. “Do not be in such a hurry, venerable sir,” said old Mr. Chen. “It’s late now. Wait till morning.” He then said good-bye to the two elderly neighbors, and after supper the visitors slept in the side room once more.


Output: Pig rose at dawn and said, “Brother, it was even colder last night. I think the river really must have frozen solid.” Sanzang went to the door, bowed low to Heaven, and prayed, “All you gods who protect the teachings, on my journey West I have faithfully worshipped the Buddha and crossed many a river and mountain with great suffering and never a word of complaint. I am deeply grateful for Heaven’s help in bringing me this far, and I also give most humble thanks that the river has now frozen. When I bring the scriptures back I shall report all this to the Tang Emperor and reward you sincerely.” When he had finished his prayer he told Friar Sand to saddle the horse so that they could cross the river while it was frozen. “Please do not be in such a hurry,” said old Mr. Chen. “Stay here a few more days until the ice has melted and I shall arrange for a boat to carry you across.”


Output:
“I don’t know whether we should go or stay,” said Friar Sand. “You can’t rely on what people say, and you can only believe what you see with your own eyes. I’ll saddle the horse and you can take a look for yourself.”

“A good suggestion,” said old Mr. Chen. “Servants,” he ordered, “saddle six of our horses, but not the Tang Priest’s horse.”

Then with six young pages in attendance they went in line to the bank of the river to look. Indeed:

The snow is piled up like mountains,

When the clouds disappear the dawn is bright.

A thousand pinnacles soar above the ice-locked pass;

Frozen rivers and lakes are completely smooth.

The North wind chills to the bone,

The slippery ice is bitterly cold.

The fish stay by the plants in the pond,

The wild birds linger in the stubble.

Beyond the frontier fingers are lost to frostbite;

The boatman on the river breaks his teeth with shivering.

Snakes’ stomachs split,

Birds’ legs break:

The ice forms mountains thousands of feet high.


Output:
The ice forms mountains thousands of feet high.

The flowing silver stops in ten thousand valleys;

Cold is the river’s liquid jade.

The East produces frozen silkworms,

And mice make their holes in the Northern ice.

Wang Xiang lay on the ice to melt it

And caught a carp for his mother to eat.

When the Emperor Guangwu crossed the river

A bridge of ice formed overnight for him.

Many are the layers of ice on the pond,

And the deep pool is frozen solid.

There are no more waves on the mighty River of Heaven;

The gleaming ice stretches out as hard as a road.

When Sanzang and his party reached the bank of the river they reined in their horses to look and saw that there really were people setting out from where the road reached the bank. “Benefactor,” asked Sanzang, “where are those people going to across the ice?”


Output:
“On the other side of the river,” said old Mr. Chen, “is the Womanland of Western Liang. Those people are all traders. What costs a hundred cash on this side can be worth ten thousand over there and vice versa, and it’s because such big profits can be made for such a small expenditure that people risk their lives to go there. Normally they form groups of five to a dozen or so and sail across, but now that the river has frozen over they are prepared to walk over at mortal peril.”

“Fame and profit are what make the world go round,” said Sanzang. “They are risking their lives for profit, and my disciples loyally obey orders for the sake of fame: there’s not much to choose between them.” He then told Monkey to go back to their benefactors’ house, pack the luggage, and bridle and saddle the horse so that they could head West while the ice held. Monkey agreed with a chuckle.


Output:
“Master,” said Friar Sand, “there’s a saying that goes, ‘For a thousand days you need a thousand pints of rice.’ Now that we are staying at the Chen house why don’t we wait here a few days longer till the skies have cleared and the ice melted then get a boat to take us across? Rushing like this will only lead to trouble.”

“Wujing,” Sanzang replied, “how can you be so stupid? If it were March and the weather were warming up every day we could wait for it to thaw. But now it is September and it is getting cooler very day, so it would be absurd to wait for the thaw. It would set our journey a long time back.”

“Stop all that idle chatter,” said Pig, jumping down from his horse. “I’m going to find out how thick the ice is.”

“You idiot,” said Monkey, “you could test the depth of the water the other evening by throwing a stone into it, but you could never do that now that the ice is so thick.”


Output:
“What you don’t understand, brother,” said Pig, “is that I can hit it with my rake. If I smash through it, it’s too thin for us to walk on; but if I don’t move it at all that’ll show it’s thick enough for us to cross.”

“What you say is right,” observed Sanzang. The idiot hitched up his clothes, strode to the edge of the river, raised his rake with both hands, and brought it down with all his might. There was a hollow thump as nine white scars appeared on the ice. His hand had been painfully jarred.

“We can go,” said the idiot with a grin, “we can go. It’s frozen solid right down to the bottom.”


Output: The news delighted Sanzang, who took them all back to the Chen house and told them to prepare to travel. Seeing that repeated pleas were not going to make their visitors stay the two old men gave them some dry cooked grain, buns and steamed bread. The whole household kowtowed to the monks in respect then carried out a tray of silver and gold pieces and knelt before them. “We are so grateful to you gentlemen for saving the lives of our children that we would like to offer you this towards the cost of a meal on the journey.”


Output:
Sanzang shook his head and waved his hand as he refused to accept it. “I am a monk,” he said, “and what would I want with money? I would never be able to produce it on the journey. We have to beg for what we eat. The food you have given us will be plenty.” When the old men repeatedly implored them to accept it Monkey took just under half an ounce of it between his fingers that he handed to Sanzang with the words, “Master, accept this offering so as not to be ungrateful to the two old gentlemen.”

Only then did they take their leave. Once the horse’s hoofs slipped on the ice at the edge of the river, so that Sanzang almost fell of.

“It’s hard going, Master,” said Friar Sand.

“Wait,” said Pig. “Ask old Mr. Chen for some rice straw.”

“What for?” Brother Monkey asked.


Output:
“What for?” Brother Monkey asked.

“You wouldn’t know,” said Pig. “If you wrap rice straw round the horse’s hoofs it won’t slip and the master won’t fall off.” When old Mr. Chen heard this from the bank he at once sent someone back to fetch a bundle of rice straw from the house, then invited Sanzang to dismount while Pig wrapped the straw round the horse’s hoofs, after which they set out across the ice.

When they had taken their leave of the old Chen brothers and gone a mile or so from the bank Pig handed the nine-ringed monastic staff to Sanzang.

“Master,” he said, “hold this staff sticking out sideways as you ride.”

“You idiot,” said Monkey, “you’re trying another dirty trick. You’re meant to be carrying the staff, so why are you giving it to the master to carry?”


Output: “You’ve never walked across ice,” said Pig, “so you wouldn’t know that there are always crevasses. Step on one and you’ll go in. If you don’t have something like a carrying-pole sticking out sideways then you’ll fall into the water and have no more chance of climbing out that if you were in a big pot with a lid on it. You’ve got to have a prop like this to be safe.”


Output:
“This idiot must have years of experience of walking on ice,” thought Monkey, smiling to himself, and they took Pig’s advice: the venerable elder held his monastic staff sideways, Monkey his iron cudgel, Friar Sand his demon-quelling staff and Pig, who had the luggage on a carrying-pole over his shoulder, held his rake sideways at waist height. Thus master and disciples pressed ahead without worry until nightfall, when they ate some of their dry rations. Not daring to delay, they hurried on over the ice that glistened and reflected the light of the moon and the stars across its white expanses. The horse never rested for a moment nor did master and disciples close their eyes as they kept going all night. They ate some more dry rations at dawn and pressed on towards the West.

As they were walking they heard a loud creaking noise from under the ice which so frightened the white horse that it almost fell over. “Disciples,” asked Sanzang with horror, “what was that noise?”


Output:
“The river has frozen so solid that it’s made the earth rumble,” said Pig. “Or perhaps the river’s frozen right to the bottom here in the middle.” Half reassured but still half terrified, Sanzang whipped the horse forward and they carried on.

Since coming back to his watery palace the evil monster had been waiting under the ice with all his spirits for a long time. As soon as he heard the horse’s hoofs he used his magic to make the ice burst noisily open, giving Monkey such a fright that he sprang up into mid-air. The other three and the white horse sank into the water, where the evil monster captured Sanzang and took him back to his underwater palace with all his spirits.

“Where is my sister the mandarin fish?” he shouted stridently, at which she came forward, did obeisance, and said, “Your Majesty, I am not worthy to be your sister.”


Output: “How can you say such a thing, good sister?” the monster replied. “Once a word is spoken a four-horse chariot can’t bring it back. I said that if I caught the Tang Priest by following your plan I would take you as my sworn sister. Today your plan has proved itself to have been a superb one and the Tang Priest has been caught. I could not possibly go back on my word. Little ones,” he ordered his underlings, “bring a table, whet a sharp knife, open this monk up, cut out his heart, skin him, and slice up his flesh. I also want music played while I share him with my sister and we both obtain eternal life.”


Output:
“Your Majesty,” said the mandarin fish, “don’t eat him yet. His disciples may make trouble if they come here searching for him. It would be better to wait a couple of days until we know those damned wretches won’t come looking for him before we cut him up. Then Your Majesty will sit in the place of honour while we, your kinsfolk, play music, sing and dance around you and wait on you; and you will be able to take your pleasure at your ease. Wouldn’t that be best?” The monster accepted the suggestion and had Sanzang stored away in a six-foot-long stone chest behind the palace.

Pig and Friar Sand meanwhile recovered the luggage in the river, loaded it on the back of the white horse, and swam up through the waves as they parted the waters. When Monkey saw them from up in the air he asked, “Where’s the master?”


Output:
“He’s not the Tang Priest now,” said Pig. “He’s the Drowned Priest. We can’t find him anywhere, so let’s go back ashore and decide what to do.” Now Pig was a mortal incarnation of Marshal Tian Peng who had once commanded eighty thousand sailors on the Heavenly River in the sky, Friar Sand had come from the Flowing Sands River, and the white horse was the grandson of the Dragon King of the Western Ocean, so they were all good swimmers. With the Great Sage showing them the way from mid-air they were soon back at the Eastern bank, where they dried and brushed the horse and wrung out their clothes.

Monkey then landed his cloud, and they went back together to the Chen household, where a messenger had already reported that only three of the four venerable gentlemen who were going to fetch the scriptures were now returning. The two aged brothers hurried outside to meet them.


Output:
“Gentlemen,” they said, seeing their wet clothes, “we tried so hard to persuade you to stay longer, and look what has come of your refusal. Where is the venerable Tang Priest?”

“He isn’t the Tang Priest any more,” said Pig. “He’s the Drowned Priest.”

“Alas, alas,” said the aged brothers, bursting into tears. “We said that you should wait until the snow had melted and we could send you all across in a boat, but he refused to agree, and now he’s dead.”


Output:
“Old men,” said Monkey, “don’t upset yourselves over your friend. I can assure you that the master will not die. I’m certain that the Great King of Miraculous Response has captured him by magic. So stop worrying, have our clothes washed and starched, our passport dried out, and the white horse fed. My brothers and I will find the damned creature, rescue the master, and wipe this evil monster out. Then he’ll give you village no more trouble and you will, I hope, have a safe and peaceful future.” Old Mr. Chen, greatly encouraged to hear this, ordered a vegetarian meal to be provided.

The three brothers ate their fill, handed the horse and the luggage over to the care of the Chen household, got their weapons ready, and hurried off to find their master and catch the monster. Indeed:

The true nature was harmed by treading on the ice;

How could they be complete without the Cinnabar?

If you do not know how they rescued the Tang Priest listen to the explanation in the next installment.

Chapter Fourty-Nine


Output:
Chapter Fourty-Nine

Sanzang’s Great Misfortune Is to Fall into the River

Guanyin’s Fish Basket Saves the Tang Priest

The story tells how the Great Sage Monkey took his leave of the old Chen brothers, went with Pig and Friar Sand to the bank of the river, and told the two of them to decide which of them would go into the water first. “Brother,” said Pig, “you should go first; neither of us two has very special powers.”

“To be frank with you, brother,” replied Monkey. “I wouldn’t need any help from either of you in dealing with mountain spirits, but I can’t cope in the water. If I go into rivers or seas I have to make hand spells to keep the water away, or else change into something like a fish or a crab. But if I’m making a hand spell I can’t get a good swing with my cudgel, use my powers, or kill evil spirits. I asked you two to go in because I’ve long known that you’re both good swimmers.”


Output:
“Brother,” said Friar Sand, “I’ll go, but I don’t know what we’ll find at the bottom of the river. I think we should all go. You should turn yourself into something or else let me carry you through the water to find the monster’s den. You go first and discover what’s been happening. If the master hasn’t been hurt and is still there we can do our best to attack the monster. But if the monster has used magic on the master and he’s has been drowned or eaten there will be no point in searching too hard; we’d better find something else to do instead.”

“You’re right, brother,” said Monkey. “Which of you will carry me?”

“Pig was secretly delighted at this question. “Goodness only knows how many times that ape has put one over on me,” he thought. “As he can’t swim I’ll carry him and put one over on him this time.”


Output:
“Brother,” he said, chuckling, “I’ll carry you.” Realizing that Pig was up to something Monkey decided to beat him at his own game and replied, “Very well, you’re stronger than Friar Sand.” Pig then took Monkey on his back.

Friar Sand parted a way through the waters of the River of Heaven for the brother-disciples. When they had covered thirty or forty miles on the riverbed the idiot made a grab for Monkey, who pulled out one of his hairs and turned it into a double of himself that he put on Pig’s back, while changing his real self into a pig louse that clung firmly to the idiot’s ear. Pig suddenly stumbled as he walked along, threw Monkey forward and made him fall. Now as the double was only a hair transformed it floated up and disappeared.

“Brother,” said Friar Sand to Pig, “what are you doing? Why have you fallen over in the mud instead of walking along properly? And even if you have to do that, where have you dropped Monkey?”


Output:
“He couldn’t stop himself falling,” Pig replied, “and he’s vanished. Never mind whether he’s alive or dead. We two will go and find the master.”

“No,” said Friar Sand, “we need him. He’s no swimmer but he’s cleverer than us. If he not coming I won’t go with you.” Monkey could restrain himself no longer.

“Pig!” he shouted at the top of his voice from inside the ear. “I’m here.”

When Friar Sand heard this he said with a laugh, “That’s done it. You’re the one that’s had it, you idiot. You had a nerve, trying to put one over on him. What are we going to do now? We can hear him but he’s disappeared.”

Pig knelt in the mud and started to kowtow desperately, saying, “I did wrong, brother, I did wrong. When we’ve rescued the master I’ll apologize to you properly on shore. Where did you talk to us from? You scared me to death. Please, please turn back into yourself. I’ll carry you, and I promise not to knock you about any more.”


Output:
“You’ve been carrying me all the time,” said Monkey. “I won’t play any tricks on you. Now, get going, and fast.” The idiot staggered to his feet still mumbling apologies and pressed on with Friar Sand.

After another thirty or forty miles they looked up to see a tall building on which was written in large letters RESIDENCE OF THE RIVER TURTLE. “This must be where the monster lives,” said Friar Sand. “We two can’t go up to the doors and challenge him to battle without finding out how things stand.”

“Wujing,” said Brother Monkey to Friar Sand, “is there water inside and outside the door?”

“No,” said Friar Sand. “In that case you two hide near here while I take a look round,” said Monkey.


Output:
The splendid Great Sage climbed out of Pig’s ear, shook himself, turned into a female shrimp with long legs, and reached the doors with two or three jumps. When he took a good look around he saw the monster sitting up above the door with all his watery tribe drawn up around him and the female mandarin fish sitting at his side. They were all discussing how to eat the Tang Priest. Monkey looked carefully around but could see the master nowhere. Then he noticed another female shrimp coming over and standing in the portico to the West. Monkey leapt forward and called, “Sister-in-law, where is this Tang Priest that His Majesty and everyone else are talking about eating?”

“His Majesty caught him yesterday when he made all that snow and ice,” the female shrimp replied. “He’s now in a stone chest behind the palace. If his disciples don’t come here to make trouble we’ll have music and feast on him tomorrow.”


Output:
When Monkey heard this he kept up his act for a little longer then went straight round to the back of the palace where he found a stone chest just like a stone pig-trough in a sty or a stone coffin. He measured it, found that it was six feet long, lay on it and listened. He could hear Sanzang sobbing inside. Monkey said nothing but put his ear against the lid, listened more carefully, and could make out Sanzang gnashing his teeth and saying amid moans,

“If only my fate had not always been so bad:

Disasters in rivers all my life have I had.

Soon after I was born I was floated on the water,

And now that have I drowned never I will not see Lord Buddha.

Not so long ago the Black River made me weep,

And now the breaking ice has consigned me to the deep.

I wonder if at any time my followers will come

To let me fetch the scriptures and complete my journey home.”


Output:
Monkey could not restrain himself from calling to him, “Master, don’t be so upset about troubles by water. As the Classic of Water Disaster has it, ‘Earth is the mother of the Five Elements, and water is their origin. Without earth there can be no life, and without water there can be no growth.’ I’m here.”

“Save me, disciple,” said Sanzang, hearing Monkey’s voice.

“Don’t worry,” said Monkey, “I promise we’ll save you when we’ve captured the monster.”

“Act fast,” said Sanzang. “If I’m here for another day I’ll die of suffocation.”

“No problem,” said Monkey, “no problem. I’m off.” He turned, sprang out through the main doors, turned back into himself, and called for Pig.

“What’s happening?” asked the idiot and Friar Sand as they came up to him.


Output:
“The monster caught the master with that trick,” Monkey replied. “He’s unhurt, but the monster has put him inside a stone chest. You two challenge the monster to battle at once while I get out of the water. Capture him if you can, and if you can’t then pretend to be beaten and lure him out of the water for me to kill.”

“Out you go, brother, and don’t worry,” said Friar Sand. “We’ll find out what the monster’s really like.” Monkey then made a water-averting spell with his hands, shot up through the waves, and stood on the bank to wait.

Watch while Pig charges at the doors in a murderous mood yelling, “Damned monster, give us our master back.”

The little devils inside the doors rushed back in panic to report, “Your Majesty, there are people outside asking for their master.”


Output:
“It must be those bloody monks here,” said the monster. “Fetch my armor and weapons at once.” The little devils ran to fetch them, and when the monster was in his armor and holding his weapons in his hand he ordered that the doors be opened. As he came out Pig and Friar Sand, who were standing one to each side, could see how he was dressed and equipped. He was a fine monster. Just look:

On his head a gleaming helmet of gold,

On his body golden armor that made a rainbow.

His belt was studded thick with pearls and jade;

The strange boots on his feet were of smoky yellow leather.

His nose was as high as a mountain ridge,

His brow as majestically broad as a dragon’s.

Fierce and round were his eyes that flashed,

Spikes of steel were his sharp, neat teeth.

His short, matted hair seemed to be ablaze,

And his long whiskers bristled like golden spikes.

In his mouth he was chewing a tender reed

While he wielded a nine-knobbed mace of copper.

The noise when the doors were opened wide


Output:
The noise when the doors were opened wide

Rivaled the crashing of thunder in spring.

Few such could be seen in the world of mortals:

The Great King truly deserves his title.

The evil spirit came outside accompanied by a hundred or more of his little devils, who brandished their swords and spears as they formed themselves up into two companies. “Where are you from, monks,” he asked Pig, “and why are you making this horrible noise here?”

“You got away before, but I’ll get you now, damned monster,” Pig shouted back. “Stop pretending you don’t know who I am—we’ve had words already. I’m a disciple of the holy priest from the Great Tang who’s going to worship the Buddha and collect the scriptures in the Western Heaven. You and your little tricks, calling yourself the Great King of Miraculous Response, and eating boys and girls in Chen Village. Can’t you recognize me? I was the Chen family’s little girl, Pan of Gold.”


Output:
“Monk,” said the monster, “you’re a disgrace. You deserve to be punished for fraudulent impersonation if you turned yourself into that girl. You wounded the back of my hand although I never ate you. I let you off that time, so why have you come to my front door looking for me?”

“What do you mean, let me off?” said Pig. “You made that cold wind and the snow, froze the river, and are going to kill the master. As soon as you give him back there’ll be no more trouble, but if you so much as start to say no you’ll get it from this rake of mine, and it’ll show you no mercy.”


Output:
The evil spirit’s response to this was a mocking laugh. “That’s fancy talk, monk,” he said, “but it’s a load of nonsense, except that I did make the cold, the snow and the ice and I have captured your master. You may think you can get him back by coming here and shouting, but this time things are different. Last time I was unarmed as I was going to a banquet, which was why you took me by surprise and wounded me. This time I’ll fight three rounds with you if you don’t make yourself scarce. If you’re a match for me I’ll give you back your master, but if you’re not, you’ll be eaten too.”

“What a good little boy,” said Pig. “Just what I expected to hear from you. Watch out for my rake!”

“So you only became a monk in middle life,” said the monster.

“You really do have some miraculous responsiveness, my boy,” Pig replied. “How did you know that?”

“If you fight with a rake that must mean you used to be a hired hand in a vegetable garden and stole it,” said the monster.


Output:
“My boy,” said Pig, “this isn’t a farming rake. Just look at it:

Its mighty prongs are like dragon claws

Set with gold in the from of serpents.

In battle with a foe it makes cold winds

Till it gives off flames in a longer fight.

It kills off demons for the holy priest

Subduing evil spirits on the journey West.

When it stirs up clouds it bolts out sun and moon,

Making the colours of sunset brightly shine.

It could knock down Mount Tai, to the terror of the tigers,

Turn the oceans upside down, alarming all the dragons.

I could spare you for the sake of your mighty powers,

But if I struck you with the rake it would make nine holes.”

Refusing to believe this the monster raised his copper mace and struck at Pig’s head. Pig parried the blow with his rake and said, “Damn you, you’re just an evil creature turned spirit in middle life.”

“How can you tell that?” the monster asked.


Output:
“How can you tell that?” the monster asked.

“As you fight with a mace I think you must have worked as a furnace-man for a silversmith, got your hands on that hammer, and stolen it,” Pig replied.

“It’s no silversmith’s hammer,” the monster said. “Look at it:

Its nine knobs all are like the buds of flowers

Growing on a sprig of an evergreen plant.

This never was a product of the earthly world,

For it came from the gardens of immortal beings.

Its green and purple fruit matured by the Jade Pool;

Its pure fragrance was formed beside the Nephrite Pond.

Because I worked and tempered it with diligence and skill

It now is hard as steel and miraculously sharp.

Spears, swords and halberds are not its worthy rivals;

Battleaxe and partisan do not dare approach.

No matter how sharp are the prongs of your rake,

If they touch my hammer they’ll bend and they’ll break.”


Output:
This conversation between the two of them was too much for Friar Sand, who came forward and said, “Monster, stop all that empty talk. As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. Wait there and see how you like my staff.”

The monster parried it with his mace and replied, “You’re another one who became a monk in middle life.”

“How can you tell?” Friar Sand asked.

“From the look of you you must have been a miller before,” the monster replied.

“What makes you think that?” Friar Sand asked.

“Why would you fight with a noodle-making pole if you weren’t a miller?” the monster asked.

“You evil thing,” said Friar Sand, “What you can’t see is that

Few are the weapons like this one in the world

Which is why you do not know what this staff of mine is called.

It grew in a shadeless part of the moon,

Was shaped from the trunk of a Sala-tree.

The jewels set around it shine with many colours,

And solid is the blessing that is packed inside.

Once it was present at the Jade Emperor’s banquets


Output:
Now it protects the priest from the Tang.

On this road to the West it is utterly unknown,

But great is its fame in the palaces of Heaven.

It is known as the precious demon-quelling staff,

And with a single blow it could pulverize your brow.”

The evil spirit allowed no more arguments and the three of them now became deadly foes. They fought a fine battle under the water:

Mace, staff and rake,

Wuneng and Wujing against the monster.

One was Marshal Tian Peng come to earth,

One a great general down from Heaven.

Both showed their prowess in attacking the water monster,

Who put up a good fight against the heavenly monks.

They had the good fortune to complete the great Way,

Overcoming each other in an endless sequence.

Earth defeated water;

When water was dried out the river-bed showed.

Water gave birth to wood,

Which blossomed when it was growing well.

Dhyana and meditation were all the same;

Refining cinnabar and alchemy submitted to the Three Schools,

Earth was the mother,


Output:
Earth was the mother,

Yielding sprouts of metal,

And metal yielded the liquid that gave birth to the babe.

Water was the root

That nurtured wood’s flourishing,

Which rivaled in its glory the glow of sunset.

Because the elements were crowded together

They all turned hostile and started to fight.:

See how bright are the nine knobs on the mace

While the staff is decorated with many-coloured silks.

The rake crushed positive and negative,

Divided the Nine Bright Shiners,

And swung in a tangle without any order.

They were ready to die to save the Tang Priest,

Prepared to give their lives for Sakyamuni Buddha.

They kept the mace of copper busy without respite

Parrying the blows of the staff and the rake.


Output:
Parrying the blows of the staff and the rake.

When the three of them had been fighting under the water for four full hours without either side emerging as victor Pig realized that they were not going to beat the monster and gave Friar Sand a nod. Pretending that they were beaten, the two of them turned and fled, trailing their weapons behind them.

“Hold your ground here, little ones,” said the monster to his underlings, “while I go after those wretches. When I catch those damned monks I’ll bring them back for you all to eat.” Watch him as he emerges above the water in pursuit of the two of them like the wind driving fallen leaves or a rainstorm beating down withered blossoms.

Monkey meanwhile had been standing on the bank watching the water with unwavering eyes. Suddenly he saw the waves thrown into turmoil as with a great roar Pig leapt ashore.

“He’s coming,” he said, “he’s coming.”

Next Friar Sand reached the bank saying, “He’s coming, he’s coming.”


Output:
Then came the monster after them shouting, “Where’ve you gone?”

No sooner had his head come into view than Monkey struck with his cudgel, shouting, “Take that!” The evil spirit swerved to avoid it then parried with his copped mace. While the one stirred up the waves in the river the other showed his prowess on the shore. Before three rounds of the fight had been fought the monster, unable to keep up his resistance, did a feint and plunged back into the water, whereupon the wind fell and the waves subsided.

“Thank you, brothers,” said Monkey, going back up the high bank.

“Brother,” said Friar Sand, “you may not think that monster is up to much on the shore, but he’s a real terror underwater. Pig and I attacking together were only as good as him alone. How are we going to deal with him and rescue the master?”

“We’ve no time to lose,” said Monkey. “He may kill the master.”


Output:
“I’ll trick him into coming out,” said Pig. “You wait up in the air and say nothing at all. When you reckon his head is above the water, hit him a good hard one on the forehead from upside-down. Even if that doesn’t kill him his head will ache and he’ll feel faint. When I catch him one with my rake that’ll settle his score.”

“Good idea,” said Monkey, “good idea. That’s what they call a coordinated attack, and it will do the trick.” The two of them went back into the water.

The evil monster fled to his palace in defeat, where the other demons greeted him and the mandarin fish asked, “Where did Your Majesty chase those two monks to?”

“They have an accomplice,” the monster replied. “When they jumped ashore he swung an iron cudgel at me. I dodged it and fought back. Goodness only know how heavy that cudgel is: I couldn’t keep it off me with my mace. He sent me back here beaten in less than three rounds.”

“Can you remember what their accomplice looks like, Your Majesty?” the mandarin fish asked.


Output:
“He’s a monk with a hairy face that looks like a thunder god’s,” the monster replied, “pointed ears, a broken nose, and fiery eyes with golden pupils.” At this the mandarin fish shuddered.

“Thank goodness Your Majesty could see how good a fighter he was and ran away,” she said. “You would never have survived another three rounds. I know who that monk is.”

“Who is he then?” the monster asked.

“When I was in the Eastern Ocean many years ago I once heard the old dragon king talk of his fame. He’s the Handsome Monkey King, the Great Sage Equaling Heaven who made himself into a golden Immortal of the Supreme Monad and made havoc in Heaven five hundred years ago. Now he has submitted to the Buddha’s teachings, changed his name to Sun Wukong the Novice, and is protecting the Tang Priest on his journey to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures. He has enormous divine powers and can do all sorts of transformations. Your Majesty, you must not provoke him or have any more fights with him.”


Output:
Before these remarks were out of her mouth the little devils from by the door came back to report, “Your Majesty, those two monks are back here challenging you to battle again.”

“Good sister,” said the monster, “you are very wise. I won’t go out, but I’ll see what happens.” He sent this urgent order: “Little ones, shut the doors firmly. As they say,

You can stand outside and roar,

But we won’t unlock the door.

They can hang around for a couple of days, and when they can’t take any more and go away we’ll feast on the Tang Priest at our ease.”

The little demons piled up rocks and made a clay cement to seal the doors firmly shut. When the repeated shouts of Pig and Friar Sand failed to bring the monster out the idiot lost his patience and started to smash the doors with his rake, but they were so firmly barricaded that even though he broke up the doors themselves with seven or eight blows there were still so many layers of clay and rocks behind them that he had no hope of getting through.


Output:
“Brother,” said Friar Sand when he saw this, “that demon is so scared that he’s barricaded his doors and won’t come out. We’d better go back to the shore and discuss it with Monkey.” Pig agreed and they returned to the Eastern bank.

When Monkey, who was waiting up in the mist and clouds with his cudgel in his hand, saw the two of them emerge with no demon after them he landed his cloud on the bank to meet them. “Brothers,” he asked, “why haven’t you brought him up with you?”

“The monster has barricaded his doors and won’t show himself,” said Friar Sand. “When Brother Pig smashed his doors down he saw that the doorway was strongly blocked up with clay and rocks, and as we can’t fight him we’ve come back to discuss with you some other way of saving the master.”

“It sounds hopeless,” said Monkey. “You two patrol the bank and don’t let the monster escape while I’m away.”

“Where are you going, brother?” asked Pig.


Output:
“Where are you going, brother?” asked Pig.

“I’m going to Potaraka to call on the Bodhisattva,” Monkey replied, “and find out about the monster’s name and background. When I’ve found his ancestral home and captured his relations and neighbors I’ll come back

to get him and rescue the master.”

“But doing all that will be too much trouble and take far too long,” laughed Pig. “I assure you it won’t take any time or trouble,” replied Brother Monkey. “I’ll soon be back.”

The splendid Great Sage set off from the river bank at high speed on his auspicious cloud and headed for the Southern Sea. Within an hour Potaraka Island was in view, and he landed the cloud on Pota Cliff, where the twenty-four devas, the guardian god of the island, Moksa the Novice, the boy Sudhana, and the Naga Maiden Pengzhu all came forward to bow in greeting and ask, “Why have you come, Great Sage?”

“There is something about which I would like to see the Bodhisattva,” Monkey replied.


Output:
“The Bodhisattva left her cave this morning to go to her bamboo grove,” the devas replied. “She allowed nobody to accompany her, but as she knew that you would be coming today she told us to wait here to greet you. Since you will not be able to see her at once would you please sit under the Turquoise Cliff until the Bodhisattva comes out and decides what to do.”

Brother Monkey did as they suggested, but before he had sat down the page Sudhana came up to him and said with a bow, “Great Sage Sun, thanks to you earlier kindness the Bodhisattva deigned to keep me. I never leave her side, and am always at the foot of her lotus throne. She has been very good to me.” Monkey, who knew that he had previously been the Red Boy, laughed as he said, “You were so confused by evil then that you only realize I’m a good person now you’ve been converted.”


Output:
When he had been waiting for a long time but the Bodhisattva had still not appeared Monkey said anxiously. “Will you please report that I’m here? Time’s being lost, and I’m worried that my master may be killed.”

“We would not dare,” the devas replied. “The Bodhisattva told us to wait till she came herself.” Monkey, who was much too impatient to wait a moment longer, rushed inside.

The Handsome Monkey King

Was impatient and very snide.

The devas could not hold him back,

When he wanted to go inside.

He strode deep into the grove,

Eyes wide as he peered around.

He saw the Saviour sitting on

Bamboo leaves on the ground.

She was not washed or combed,

And her face was free of care.

There were no tassels to hold in place

The silken strands of her hair.

She did not wear her plain blue robe,

But only a clinging vest,

A skirt of brocade round her waist,

And both arms left undressed.

There was no shawl for her shoulders;

On her foot she wore no shoe.

Her jade hand held a knife of steel


Output:
Her jade hand held a knife of steel

With which she peeled bamboo.

When Monkey saw her he could not restrain himself from shouting, “Bodhisattva, your disciple Sun Wukong offers his pious respects.”

“Wait outside,” said the Bodhisattva.

“Bodhisattva,” Monkey replied, “my master is in trouble and I have come to inquire respectfully about the background of the evil monster in the River of Heaven.”

“Get out,” said the Bodhisattva, “and wait till I come out.”

Not daring to push his demands any harder, Monkey had to leave the bamboo grove and say to all the devas, “The Bodhisattva seems to be spring cleaning. Why is she cutting strips of bamboo in the grove, and not properly dressed, instead of sitting on her lotus throne?”

“We don’t know,” said the devas. “She left the cave and went into the grove this morning before dressing, telling us to receive you here. It must be something to do with you, Great Sage.” Monkey could do nothing but wait.


Output:
Before long the Bodhisattva emerged from the grove carrying a basket made from purple bamboo. “Wukong,” she said, “you and I are going to rescue the Tang Priest.”

Monkey fell to his knees and replied, “Your disciple has the temerity to suggest that you should dress and take your seat on your lotus throne.”

“There will be no need to dress; I shall go as I am,” the Bodhisattva replied, after which she dismissed the devas and set off on an auspicious cloud. Monkey could only follow.


Output: In a moment they were on the banks of the River of Heaven. When Pig and Friar Sand saw them they said to each other, “That brother of ours is too impatient. Goodness only knows what sort of row he must have made in the Southern Sea to make the Bodhisattva come rushing here before she was even properly dressed.” Before these words were out of their mouths Guanyin reached the bank, and the two of them bowed low to her saying, “Bodhisattva, we shouldn’t have done it, we were wrong, forgive us.” The Bodhisattva undid the silken sash around her waistcoat, tied one end to the basket, and rose on a coloured cloud.


Output:
Holding the other end of the sash she threw the basket into the river then pulled it up through the current, reciting, “Die if you go, live if you stay, die if you go, live if you stay.” When she had said this seven times she raised the basket again, and this time it contained a glistening goldfish, blinking its eyes and moving its scales. “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “go down into the water and rescue your master.”

“How can I?” Monkey said. “The monster hasn’t been caught yet.”

“Isn’t that him in the basket?” the Bodhisattva asked.

Pig and Friar Sand then bowed low and asked, “How could that fish have had such great powers?”


Output: “It originally was a goldfish that I raised in my lotus pool,” the Bodhisattva replied. “Every day it would swim up to listen to sutras, and it trained itself to have magic powers. The nine-knobbed copper mace was an unopened lotus bud that it tempered and made into a weapon. One day, I do not know when, a high tide reached the pool and carried it here. When I was leaning on the balustrade looking at the lotuses this morning I noticed that the wretch had not come to pay his respects, so I examined my fingers and the palms of my hands and worked out that it must have become a spirit and be planning to kill your master. That was why I did not wait to dress before using my divine powers to weave a bamboo basket in which to catch him.”


Output:
“In that case,” said Monkey, “could you stay here a moment longer? We would like to let the faithful in Chen Village gaze upon your golden countenance, Bodhisattva. This would be a great kindness, and it would also teach common folk to believe and make offerings by showing them how that demon was subdued.”

“Very well,” said the Bodhisattva. “Call them here.”

Pig and Friar Sand then ran to the village shouting, “Come and see the living Bodhisattva Guanyin, come and see the living Bodhisattva Guanyin.” All the villagers, young and old, men and women, rushed to the edge of the river and fell to their knees and kowtowed in worship despite the mud and the water. Among them was a good painter who left to posterity the painting of the Bodhisattva Guanyin appearing with a fish-basket. The Bodhisattva then returned to the Southern Sea.


Output:
Pig and Friar Sand cleared a way through the water straight to the River Turtle’s Residence, where they searched for their master. All the water monsters and fish spirits there were now dead and rotten. They went round to the back of the palace, opened the stone chest, carried the Tang Priest up out of the water, and showed him to the crowds.

The Chen brothers kowtowed and expressed their thanks, saying, “My lord, if only you had accepted our advice and stayed longer you would have been spared all this trouble.”

“Say no more about it,” replied Monkey. “From next year onwards you people here won’t need to make any more sacrifices. The Great King has been removed, and will never do you any harm again. Old Mr. Chen, I’d now like to trouble you to find a boat as soon as you can to take us across the river.”

“Yes, I can, I can,” said Chen Qing, ordering people to saw wood into planks to build a boat.


Output:
When his retainers heard this they were all delighted to make offerings, and there were many cries of “I’ll pay for the mast and the sail,” “I’ll fix the oars,” “I’ll provide the rigging,” and “I’ll hire the boatmen.”

Amid all the noisy yelling on the bank a great shout came from the river, “Great Sage Sun, don’t waste other people’s money building a boat. I shall carry you all, master and disciples, across the river.” When the crowd heard this they were all terrified. The more timid among them slipped home, while the bolder stayed to watch, shivering and shaking. A moment later a monster emerged from the water. This is what it was like:

A divine square-headed and extraordinary beast,

The miraculous creature, the immortal of the waters.

Wagging his tail he can live for many an age,

Hiding still and silent in the depths of the rivers.

Leaping through the waves he rushes to the bank,

Or lies beside the sea facing sun and wind.

He has mastered the true Way of nourishing his essence,


Output:
The Ancient Soft-shelled Turtle with his carapace of white.

“Great Sage,” called the Ancient Soft-shelled Turtle, “don’t have a boat built. I’ll take you four across.”

“I’ll get you, you evil beast,” said Monkey, swinging his iron cudgel. “Come to the bank and I’ll kill you with this.”

“I am grateful to you, Great Sage, and have offered in good faith to carry you master and you disciples across the river, so why do you want to kill me?” the monster asked.

“What good turn have I ever done you?” Brother Monkey asked.


Output: “Great Sage,” said the Soft-shelled Turtle, “you may not realize that the River Turtle’s Residence at the bottom of the river is my home, which was handed down to me by many generations of ancestors. Because I acquired awareness of the fundamental and developed a divine spirit by cultivating my conduct I had my ancestral home rebuilt as the River Turtle’s Residence. Nine years ago, on a day when the sea was roaring and the waves were crashing, that evil monster came here on the tide and used his power to make a vicious attack on me. He killed many of my children and captured many of my clan. As I was no match for him I had to let him take my home for nothing. Now that you have come to rescue the Tang Priest, Great Sage, and have asked the Bodhisattva Guanyin here to sweep away evil and capture the monster my house has been returned to me and my family reunited. We can now live in our old home instead of having to make mud shelters. That is why my gratitude to you is as great as a mountain and as deep as the


Output: you is as great as a mountain and as deep as the sea. And it is not only my family that is grateful. The whole village will now be spared from the annual sacrifice, and the sons and daughters of many a family will be spared. You have indeed brought double benefits with a single action, and that kindness is one that I have to repay.”


Output:
Monkey’s heart was warmed to hear this, so he put his cudgel away and asked, “Is all that really true?”

“How could I possibly lie to the Great Sage who has done me so very great a kindness?” the Ancient Soft-shelled Turtle asked.

“If it’s the truth you must swear an oath to Heaven,” Monkey said, whereupon the Ancient Soft-shelled Turtle opened his red mouth and swore to Heaven, “If I do not faithfully carry the Tang Priest across the River of Heaven may my whole body be turned to blood.”

“Come ashore, come ashore,” said Monkey with a smile. Only then did the Ancient soft-shelled Turtle approach the shore, give a jump, and climb up the bank. When they all went close they saw that he had a huge white shell about forty feet around.

“Master,” said Monkey, “let’s climb on his back and cross over.”

“But, disciple,” said Sanzang, “we could not get across that ice even though it was frozen so thick. I’m afraid that we would be even less safe on a turtle’s back.”