Journey to the West: Chapter Fourteen Excerpt

The Brigands of the Senses

(translated by Anthony C. Yu)

(The T'ang Buddhist monk, Tripitaka, is on his way West to India to get sacred scriptures for the Chinese people.  He is accompanied by Monkey, also known as Sun Wu-Kung, who is pledged to help Tripitaka get to India.  They have not been together long and already they are getting on each other's nerves.  The Master thinks Monkey is too undisciplined and the Disciple thinks the  monk is a whimp.  This scene opens in the mountains shortly after Monkey has joined Tripitaka, very early on in the journey.)

Master and disciple had traveled for some time when suddenly six men jumped out from the side of the road with much clamor, all holding long spears and short swords, sharp blades and strong bows. "Stop, monk!" they cried. "Leave your horse and drop your bag at once, and we'll let you pass on alive!" Tripitaka was so terrified that his soul left him and his spirit fled; he fell from his horse, unable to utter a word. But Pilgrim lifted him up, saying, "Don't be alarmed, Master. It's nothing really, just some people coming to give us clothes and a travel allowance!" "Wu-k'ung," said Tripitaka, "you must be a little hard of hearing! They told us to leave our bag and our horse, and you want to ask them for clothes and a travel allowance?" "You just stay here and watch our belongings," said Pilgrim, "and let old Monkey confront them. We’ll see what happens." Tripitaka said, "Even a good punch is no match for a pair of fists, and two fists can't cope with four hands! There are six big fellows over there, and you are such a tiny person. How can you have the nerve to confront them?"

As he always had been audacious, Pilgrim did not wait for further discussion. He walked forward with arms folded and saluted the six men, saying, "Sirs, for what reason are you blocking the path of this poor monk?" "We are kings of the highway," said the men, "philanthropic mountain lords. Our fame has long been known, though you seem to be ignorant of it. Leave your belongings at once, and you willl be allowed to pass. If you but utter half a no, you’ll be chopped to pieces!" "I have been also a great hereditary king and a mountain lord of centuries," said Pilgrim, "but I have yet to learn of your illustrious names." "So you really don't know!" one of them said. "Let's tell you then: one of us is named Eye that Sees and Delights; another, Ear that Hears and Rages; another Nose that Smells and Loves; another, Tongue that Tastes and Desires; another, Mind that Perceives and Covets and another, Body that Bears and Suffers." "You are nothing but six hairy brigands," said Wu-k'ung laughing, "who have failed to recognize in me a person who has left the family, your proper master. How dare you bay my way? Bring out the treasures you have stolen so that you and I can divide them into seven portions. I’ll spare you then!" Hearing this, the robbers all reacted with rage and amusement, covetousness and fear, desire and anxiety. They rushed forward crying, "You reckless monk! You haven't a thing to offer us, and yet you want us to share our loot with you!" Wielding spears and' swords, they surrounded Pilgrim and hacked away at his head seventy or eighty times, Pilgrim stood in their midst and behaved as if nothing were happening. "What a monk!" said one of the robbers. "He really does have a hard head!" "Passably so!" said Pilgrim laughing. "But your hands must be getting tired from all that exercise; it's about time for old Monkey to take out his needle for a little entertainment." "This monk must be an acupuncture man in disguise," said the robber. "We're not sick! What's all this about using a needle?"

Pilgrim reached into his ear and took out a tiny embroidery needle; one wave of it in the wind and it became an iron rod with the thickness of a rice bowl. He held it in his hands, saying, "Don't run! Let old Monkey try his hand on you with this rod!" The six robbers fled in all directions, but with great strides he caught up with them and rounded all of them up. He beat every one of them to death, stripped them of their clothes, and seized their valuables. Then Pilgrim came back smiling broadly and said, "You may proceed now, Master. Those robbers have been exterminated by old Monkey." "That's a terrible thing you have done!" said Tripitaka. "They may have been strong men on the highway, but they would not have been sentenced to death even if they had been caught and tried. If you have such abilities, you should have chased them away. Why did you slay them all? How can you be a monk when you take life without cause? We who have left the family should 'Keep ants out of harm's way when we sweep the floor, and put shades on lamps for the love of moths.' How can you kill them just like that, without regard for black or white? You showed no mercy at all! It's a good thing that we are here in the mountains, where any further investigation will be unlikely. But suppose someone offends you when we reach a city and you act with violence again, hitting people indiscriminately with that rod of yours, would I be able to remain innocent and get away scot-free?" "Master," said Wu-k'ung, "if I hadn't killed them, they would have killed you!" Tripitaka said, "As a priest, I would rather die than practice violence. If I were killed, there would be only one of me, but you slaughtered six persons. How can you justify that? If this matter were brought before a judge, and even if your old man were the judge, you certainly would not be able to justify your action." "To tell you the truth, Master," said Pilgrim, "where I, old Monkey, was king on the Flower-Fruit Mountain five hundred years ago, I killed I don't know how many people. I would not have been a Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, if I had lived by what you are saying." "It's precisely because you had neither scruples nor self-control," said Tripitaka, "unleashing your waywardness on Earth and perpetrating outrage in Heaven, that you had to undergo this ordeal of five hundred years. Now that you have entered the fold of Buddhism, if you still insist on practicing violence and indulge in the taking of life as before, you are not worthy to be a monk, nor can you go to the Western Heaven. You're wicked! You're just too wicked!"

Now this monkey had never in all his life been able to tolerate scolding. When he heard Tripitaka's persistent reprimand, he could not suppress the flames leaping up in all his heart. "If that's what you think," he said, "if you think I'm not worthy to be a monk, nor can I go to the Western Heaven, you needn't bother me further with your nagging! I'll leave and go back!" Before Tripitaka had time to reply, only, "Old Monkey's off!" Tripitaka quickly raised his head to look, but the monkey had already disappeared, trailed only by a swishing sound fast-fading toward the East. Left by himself, the priest could only shake his head and sigh, "That fellow! He's so unwilling to be taught! I only said a few words to him. How could he vanish without a trace and go back just like that? Well! Well! Well! It must be also that I am destined not to have a disciple or any other companion, for now I couldn't even call him or locate him if I wanted to. I might as well go on by myself!" So, he was prepared to

Lay down his life and go toward the West,

To be his own master and on none rely.

           (pp. 306 - 308, Volume I)