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

That the monks and the monster were now in combat.

When they had fought eight or nine bouts on the mountain side Pig was beginning to tire; his strength was flagging and he could only raise his rake with difficulty. Do you know why they could not hold out against the monster this time? In the first battle all the guardian gods had been helping Pig and Friar Sand as Sanzang was in the cave, so that they had then been a match for the ogre. This time the guardian gods were all looking after Sanzang in Elephantia, which was why Pig and Friar Sand could not hold out against the fiend.

“You come forward and fight him, Friar Sand,” said the idiot, “while I go off for a shit.” Then with no further thought for Friar Sand he streaked off into the undergrowth of grass, wild figs, thorns and creepers, diving straight in and not bothering about the scratches on his face. Then he fell into a doze, too frightened to come out again. He kept an ear cocked for the sound of clashing weapons.

Seeing Pig flee, the monster charged at Friar Sand, who could do nothing to stop the ogre from seizing him and carrying him into the cave. The junior fiends tied him up hand and foot. If you don't know what became of him, listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

An Evil Monster Harms the True Law

The Mind-Horse Remembers the Heart-Ape

Now that he had tied up Friar Sand, the monster did not kill him, hit him, or even swear at him. Instead he raised his sword and thought, “Coming from so great a country the Tang priest must have a sense of propriety-he can't have sent his disciples to capture me after I spared his life. Hmm. That wife of mine must have sent some kind of letter to her country and let the secret out. Just wait till I question her.” The monster became so furious that he was ready to kill her.

The unwitting princess, who had just finished making herself up, came out to see the ogre knitting his brows and gnashing his teeth in anger.

“What is bothering you, my lord?” she asked with a smile. The monster snorted and started to insult her.

“You low bitch,” he said, “you haven't a shred of human decency. You never made the slightest complaint when I first brought you here. You wear clothes of brocade and a crown of gold, and I go out to find anything you need. You live in luxury all four seasons of the year, and we've always been very close to each other. So why do you think only of your mother and father? Why do you have no wifely feelings?”

This so frightened the princess that she fell to her knees and said, “What makes you start talking as if you are going to get rid of me?”

“I'm not sure whether I'm getting rid of you or you're getting rid of me,” the monster replied. “I captured that Tang Priest and brought him here to eat, but you released him without asking me first. You must have secretly written a letter and asked him to deliver it for you. There's no other explanation for why these two monks should have made an attack on this place and be demanding your return. It's all your fault, isn't it?”

“Don't blame me for this, my lord,” she replied. “I never wrote such a letter.”

“Liar,” he said. “I've captured one of my enemies to prove it.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Friar Sand, the Tang Priest's second disciple.” Nobody likes to accept their death, even at their last gasp, so she could only try to keep up the pretence.

“Please don't lose your temper, my lord,” she said. “Let's go and ask him about it. If there really was a letter I'll gladly let you kill me; but if there wasn't, you'd be killing your slave unjustly.” With no further argument the monster grabbed her by her bejeweled hair with his fist the size of a basket and threw her to the floor in front of him. Then he seized his sword to question Friar Sand.

“Friar Sand,” he roared, “When you two had the impertinence to make your attack was it because the king of her country sent you here after getting a letter from her?”

When the bound Friar Sand saw the evil spirit throw the princess to the ground in his fury then take hold of his sword to kill her, he thought, “It's obvious she must have sent a letter. But she did us a very great favour by sparing our master. If I tell him about it, he'll kill her. No, that would be a terrible thing to do after what she did for us. Besides, I haven't done any good deeds all the time I have been with our master, so as a prisoner here I can pay back my master's goodness to me with my life.”

His mind made up, he shouted, “Behave yourself, evil monster. She sent no letter, so don't you mistreat her or murder her. I'll tell you why we came to demand the princess. When my master was your prisoner in this cave he saw what the princess looked like. Later on when he presented his credentials to the King of Elephantia, the king showed him her picture and asked him if he'd seen her on his journey. The king had this picture of her painted long ago, and made enquiries about her all over the place. My master told the king about her, and when he heard this news of his daughter the king gave us some of his imperial wine and sent us to bring her back to the palace. This is the truth. There was no letter. If you want to kill anybody, kill me, and don't be so wicked as to slaughter an innocent woman.”

Impressed by Friar Sand's noble words, the monster put aside his sword and took the princess in his arms, saying, “Please forgive me for being so boorishly rude.” Then he put her hair up again for her, and turning tender again, urged her to go inside with him. He asked her to take the seat of honour and apologized to her. In her female fickleness the princess was prompted by his excess of courtesy to think of an idea.

“My lord,” she said, “could you have Friar Sand's bonds loosened a little for the sake of our love?” The old fiend ordered his underlings to untie Friar Sand and lock him up there instead.

On being untied and locked up, Friar Sand got up and thought, “The ancients said that a good turn to someone else is a good turn to yourself. If I hadn't helped her out, she wouldn't have had me untied.”

The old fiend then had a banquet laid on to calm his wife and make it up to her. When he had drunk himself fairly tipsy he put on a new robe and girded a sword to his waist. Then he fondled the princess and said, “You stay at home and drink, wife. Look after our two sons and don't let Friar Sang get away. While the Tang Priest is in Elephantia I'm going to get to know my relations.”

“What relations?” she asked.

“Your father,” he replied. “I'm his son-in-law and he's my father-in-law, so why shouldn't we get acquainted?”

“You mustn't go,” was her reply.

“Why not?” he asked.

“My father,” she answered, “didn't win his country by force of arms; it was handed down to him by his ancestors. He came to the throne as a child and has never been far from the palace gates, so he's never seen a tough guy like you. You are a bit on the hideous side with that face of yours, and it would be very bad if a visit from you terrified him. You'd do better not to go and meet him.”

“Then I'll make myself handsome,” he said.

“Try it and show me,” said the princess.

The splendid fiend shook himself, and in the middle of the banquet he changed himself into a handsome man.

Elegant he was, and tall.

He spoke like a high official,

His movements were those of a youth.

He was as brilliant as the poet Cao Zhi,

Handsome as Pan An to whom the women threw fruit.

On his head was a hat with magpie feathers,

To which the black clouds submitted;

He wore a robe of jade-coloured silk

With wide and billowing sleeves.