Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 1)

The Great Immortal turned his cloud round, went straight back to the Wuzhuang Temple, landed, sat down, and told his disciples to fetch rope. Then, with all the junior Immortals in attendance, he took the Tang Priest out of his sleeve as if he were a puppet and had him tied to one of the pillars of the main hall. After that he took the other three out and tied each of them to a pillar. The horse was taken out, tethered, and fed in the courtyard, and their luggage he threw under the covered walk.

“Disciples,” he said, “these priests are men of religion, so we cannot use swords, spears or axes on them. You'd better fetch a leather whip and give them a flogging for me-that will make me feel better about the manfruit.” The disciples immediately produced a whip-not an oxhide, sheepskin, deerskin or calfskin whip, but a seven-starred dragon-skin one-and were told to soak it in water. A brawny young Immortal was told to take a firm grip on it. “Master,” he said, “which of them stall I flog first?”

“Sanzang is guilty of gross disrespect,” the Great Immortal replied, “flog him first.”

“That old priest of ours couldn't stand a flogging,” thought Monkey when he heard this, “and if he died under the lash the fault would be mine.” Finding the thought of this unbearable, he spoke up and said, “You're wrong, sir. I stole the fruit, I ate the fruit, and I pushed the tree over. Why flog him first when you ought to be flogging me?”

“That damn monkey has a point,” said the Great Immortal with a smile, “so you'd better flog him first.”

“How many strokes?” the junior Immortal asked.

“Give him thirty,” the Great Immortal replied, “to match the number of fruits.” The junior Immortal whirled the lash and started to bring it down. Monkey, frightened that the Immortal would have great magical powers, opened his eyes wide and looked carefully to see where he was going to be hit, and it turned out to be on his legs. He twisted at the waist, shouted “Change!” turned them into a pair of wrought-iron legs, and watched the blows fall. The junior Immortal gave him thirty lashes, one after the other, until it was almost noon.

“Sanzang must be flogged too,” the Great Immortal commanded, “for training his wicked disciple so slackly and letting him run wild.”

The junior Immortal whirled the lash again and was going to strike Sanzang when Monkey said, “Sir, you're making another mistake. When I stole the fruit, my master knew nothing about it-he was talking to those two boys of yours in the main hall of the temple. This plot was hatched by us three disciples. Anyhow, even if he were guilty of slackness in training me, I'm his disciple and should take the flogging for him. Flog me again.”

“That damn monkey may be cunning and vicious, but he does have some sense of his obligations to his master. Very well then, flog him again.” The junior Immortal gave him another thirty strokes. Monkey looked down and watched his legs being flogged till they shone like mirrors but still he felt no pain.

It was now drawing towards evening, and the Great Immortal said, “Put the lash to soak. We can continue that flogging tomorrow.” The junior Immortal took the lash away to be soaked while everyone retired to their quarters, and after supper they all went to bed.

“It was because you three got me into this trouble that I was brought here to be punished,” moaned the venerable Sanzang to his three disciples as tears streamed down from his eyes. “Is that how you ought to treat me?”

“Don't grumble,” Monkey replied. “I was the one to be flogged first, and you haven't felt the lash, so what have you got to groan about?”

“I may not have been flogged,” Sanzang replied, “but it's agony being tied up like this.”

“We're tied up too to keep you company,” said Friar Sand. “Will you all stop shouting?” said Monkey, “then we can be on our way again when we've taken a rest.”

“You're showing off again, elder brother,” said Pig. “They've tied us up with hempen ropes and spurted water on them, so we're tightly bound. This isn't like the time we were shut in the hall of the temple and you unlocked the doors to let us out.”

“I'm not boasting,” said Monkey. “I don't give a damn about their three hempen ropes sprayed with water. Even if they were coconut cables as thick as a ricebowl they would only be an autumn breeze.” Apart from him speaking, all was now silence. Splendid Monkey made himself smaller, slipped out of his bonds, and said, “Let's go, master.”

“Save us too, elder brother,” pleaded a worried Friar Sand. “Shut up, shut up,” Monkey replied, then freed Sanzang, Pig and Friar Sand, straightened his tunic, tightened his belt, saddled the horse, collected their luggage from under the eaves, and went out through the temple gates with the others. “Go and cut down four of the willow-trees by that cliff,” he told Pig, who asked, “Whatever do you want them for?”

“I've got a use for them,” Monkey replied. “Bring them here immediately.”

The idiot Pig, who certainly had brute strength, went and felled each of them with a single bite, and came back holding them all in his arms. Monkey stripped off their tops and branches and told his two fellow-disciples to take the trunks back in and tie them up with the ropes as they themselves had been tied up. Then Monkey recited a spell, bit the tip of his tongue open, and spat blood over the trees. At his shout of “Change!” one of the trees turned into Sanzang, one turned into Monkey, and the other two became Friar Sand and Pig. They were all perfect likenesses; when questioned they would reply, and when called by their names they responded. The three disciples then hurried back to their master, and once more they traveled all night without stopping as they fled from the Wuzhuang Temple.

By the time it was dawn the venerable Sanzang was swaying to and fro as he dozed in the saddle. “Master,” called Monkey when he noticed, “you're hopeless. You're a man of religion-how can you be finding it so exhausting? I can do without sleep for a thousand nights not feeling a bit tired. You'd better dismount and spare yourself the humiliation of being laughed at by a passer-by. Take a rest in one of the places under this hill where the wind is stored and the vapours gather before we go any further.”

We shall leave them resting beside the path to tell how the Great Immortal got up at dawn, ate his meatless breakfast, and went to the hall. “Today Tang Sanzang is to be whipped,” he announced as he sent for the lash. The junior whirled it around and said to the Tang Priest, “I'm going to flog you.”

“Flog away,” the willow tree replied.

When he had given it thirty resounding lashes he whirled the whip around once more and said to Pig, “Now I'm going to flog you.”

“Flog away,” the willow tree replied.

When he came to flog Friar Sand, he too told him to go ahead. But when he came to flog Monkey, the real Monkey on the road shuddered and said, “Oh, no!”

“What do you mean?” Sanzang asked.

“When I turned the four willow trees into the four of us I thought that as he had me flogged twice yesterday he wouldn't flog me again today, but now he's lashing the magic body, my real body is feeling the pain. I'm putting an end to this magic.” With that he hastily recited an incantation to break the spell.

Look at the terror of the Taoist boys as they throw down their leather whips and report, “Master, at first we were flogging the Priest from the Great Tang, but all we are flogging now are willow trunks. The Great Immortal laughed bitterly on hearing this and was full of admiration.

“Brother Monkey really is a splendid Monkey King. I had heard that when he turned the Heavenly Palace upside-down, he could not even be caught with a Heaven and Earth Net, and now I see it must be true. I wouldn't mind your escaping, but why did you leave four willows tied up here to impersonate you? He shall be shown no mercy. After him!” As the words “After him” left his mouth, the Great Immortal sprang up on a cloud and looked West to see the monks carrying their bundles and spurring their horse as they went on their way. Bringing his cloud down he shouted, “Where are you going, Monkey? Give me back my manfruit tree.”