Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 3)

“You shouldn't say that,” replied the lama with a smile, “you shouldn't say that. We didn't really want to become monks. We were all given life by our mothers and fathers and only cut our ties with them because we had unlucky destinies and our families could not afford to keep us. Even though we are now disciples of the Buddhist faith you must not talk empty words.”

“I spoke in all sincerity,” Sanzang replied.

“However far is the journey from the East to the Western Heaven?” the monk said. “Along the way there are mountains, there are caves in the mountains and there are spirits in the caves. I don't think that a lone traveler looking as delicate as you could possibly be a pilgrim going to fetch the scriptures.”

“You are quite right, abbot,” Sanzang replied. “I could never have got here alone. I have three disciples who clear my way across the mountains and build me bridges over rivers. It is only because they have protected me that I have been able to reach your monastery.”

“Where are your three distinguished disciples?” the lama asked.

“Waiting outside the gates of the monastery,” Sanzang replied.

“Father,” said the lama with alarm, “you don't realize that there are dangerous tigers, wolves, evil bandits, ghosts and demons here. We don't dare roam far even by day and we shut the gates before nightfall. How can you leave people outside this late?” He then told his disciples to ask them in at once.

Two young lamas hurried outside. At the sight of Monkey they fell over, and then fell over again when they saw Pig. Scrambling to their feet they ran back in as fast as they could and said, “My lord, your luck is out. Your disciples have disappeared. There are only three or four evil monsters standing outside the gates.”

“What do they look like?” Sanzang asked.

“One has a face like a thunder god,” the young lamas replied, “one has a face like a tilt-hammer, and one has a green face and terrible fangs. There is a girl with them too-she has oiled hair and a powdered face.”

“You would not know who they are,” replied Sanzang with a smile. “The three ugly ones are my disciples and the girl is someone I rescued in the pine forest.”

“My lord,” the lama said, “how can a master as handsome as you have found yourself such ugly disciples?”

“Ugly they may be,” Sanzang replied, “but they are all useful. Ask them in straight away. If you take any longer the one who looks like a thunder god is a bit of a trouble-maker. He was not born to a mother and father and he will fight his way in.”

The young lamas then hurried outside again and fell to their knees, shivering and shaking, as they said, “My lords, Lord Tang invites you in.”

“Brother,” said Pig, “if he's invited us, that's that. Why are they shivering and shaking?”

“They're scared because we're so ugly,” Monkey replied.

“Rubbish,” said Pig. “We were born that way. None of us is ugly from choice.”

“Make yourself look a bit less ugly,” said Monkey, and the idiot really did tuck his snout into his tunic and keep his head down as he led the horse while Friar Sand carried the pole and Brother Monkey brought up the rear, holding his cudgel in his hand and dragging the girl along. They went past the ruined buildings and cloisters and in through the third part of gates. When they had tethered the horse they went into the abbot's lodgings to meet the lama and take their seats in order of precedence. The lama then went inside to lead seventy or eighty young lamas to greet them, tidy their rooms, give them a vegetarian meal and look after them. Indeed:

In storing up achievement be mindful of mercy;

When the Buddha's Dharma flourishes monks admire each other.

If you do not know how they left the monastery, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

The Mind-Ape Recognizes a Monster in the Monastery

The Three Search for Their Master in Black Pine Forest

The story tells how Sanzang and his disciples came to the Meditation Monastery where they met the lamas and were given a vegetarian meal. When the four of them had eaten the girl was also fed. By now night was gradually falling and the lamp was lit in the abbot's lodgings. The lamas, who wanted to ask the Tang Priest about why he was going to fetch the scriptures and were also eager for a look at the girl, stood packed together in rows under the lamp. “Abbot,” said Sanzang to the lama he had first met, “when we leave your monastery tomorrow what will the road West be like?” Before answering, the lama fell to his knees. Sanzang quickly helped him up and said, “Stand up, please. Why do you greet me in this way when I ask about the road?”

“When you travel West tomorrow, reverend sir, you will find that the road is level,” the lama replied. “There is no need to worry. There is just one thing at present that is rather awkward. I wanted to tell you about it as soon as you came in, but I was afraid that it would offend your distinguished self. I only venture to tell you now that the meal is over that you will be most welcome to spend the night in the young lamas' room after your long, hard journey from the East. But it would not be right for the lady Bodhisattva to do so. I don't know where I should invite her to sleep.”

“Your suspicions are not called for, abbot,” Sanzang replied, “and you should not suppose that my disciples and I have wicked ideas. When we were coming through Black Pine Forest this morning we found this girl tied to a tree. My disciple Sun Wukong refused to save her, but out of my enlightened heart I rescued her and have brought her here for you to put up, abbot.”

“As you have been so generous, reverend Father,” the abbot replied, “we can set out a straw mattress behind the devarajas in the Devaraja Hall for her to sleep on.”

“That's splendid,” Sanzang said, “splendid.” After this the young lamas took the girl to sleep in the back of the hall while in the abbot's lodgings Sanzang urged the officials of the monastery to put themselves at their ease, whereupon they all dispersed.

“We have had a hard day,” Sanzang said to Brother Monkey. “We must go to bed early and be up early in the morning.” They all slept in the same room, guarding the master and not daring to leave him. Later that night

The moon rose high and all was peaceful;

The Street of Heaven was quiet and nobody moved.

Bright was the Silver River; the stars shone clearly;

The drum in the tower hastened the changing watch.

We will say nothing more of the night. When Monkey rose at first light he told Pig and Friar Sand to get the luggage and the horse ready then urged the master to start out. But Sanzang wanted to sleep longer and would not wake up, so Monkey went up to him to call, “Master.”

The master raised his head but still could make no reply. “What will you say, Master?” Monkey asked.

“Why is my head spinning,” Sanzang replied, “why are my eyes swollen, and why an I aching all over from my skin to my bones?”

When Pig heard this he stretched out his hand to feel the master's body. It was feverish. “Now I understand,” said the idiot with a grin. “He had several bowls too many of last night's free rice and went to sleep head-down. It's indigestion.”

“Nonsense,” shouted Monkey, “Let me ask the master what's really the matter.”

“When I got up in the middle of the night to relieve myself,” Sanzang replied, “I did not put my hat on. I think I must have caught a chill in the wind.”

“I'm sure you're right,” said Monkey, “Can you travel now?”

“I cannot even sit up,” Sanzang replied, “let alone mount the horse. The journey will have to wait.”