Monkey Read online

  I hatch no plot, I scheme no scheme;

  Fame and shame are one to me,

  A simple life prolongs my days.

  Those I meet upon my way

  Are Immortals, one and all,

  Who from their quiet seats expound

  The Scriptures of the Yellow Court.

  When Monkey heard these words he was very pleased. ‘There must then be Immortals somewhere hereabouts,’ he said. He sprang deep into the forest and looking carefully saw that the singer was a woodman, who was cutting brushwood.

  ‘Reverend Immortal,’ said Monkey, coming forward, ‘your disciple raises his hands.’

  The woodman was so astonished that he dropped his axe. ‘You have made a mistake,’ he said, turning and answering the salutation, ‘I am only a shabby, hungry woodcutter. What makes you address me as an “Immortal”?’

  ‘If you are not an Immortal,’ said Monkey, ‘why did you talk of yourself as though you were one ?’

  ‘What did I say,’ asked the woodcutter, ‘that sounded as though I were an Immortal ?’

  ‘When I came to the edge of the wood,’ said Monkey, ‘I heard you singing “Those I meet upon my way are Immortals, one and all, who from their quiet seats expound the Scriptures of the Yellow Court.” Those scriptures are secret, Taoist texts. What can you be but an Immortal ?’

  ‘I won’t deceive you,’ said the woodcutter. ‘That song was indeed taught to me by an Immortal, who lives not very far from my hut. He saw that I have to work’ hard for my living and have a lot of troubles; so he told me when I was worried by anything to say to myself the words of that song. This, he said, would comfort me and get me out of my difficulties. Just now I was upset about something and so I was singing that song. I had no idea that you were listening.’

  ‘If the Immortal lives close by,’ said Monkey,’ how is it that you have not become his disciple ? Wouldn’t it have been as well to learn from him how never to grow old ?’

  ‘I have a hard life of it,’ said the woodcutter. ‘When I was eight or nine I lost my father. I had no brothers and sisters, and it fell upon me alone to support my widowed mother. There was nothing for it but to work hard early and late. Now my mother is old and I dare not leave her. The garden is neglected, we have not enough either to eat or wear. The most I can do is to cut two bundles of firewood, carry them to market and with the penny or two that I get buy a few handfuls of rice which I cook myself and serve to my aged mother. 1 have no time to go and learn magic’

  ‘From what you tell me,’ said Monkey, ‘I can see that you are a good and devoted son, and your piety will certainly be rewarded. All I ask of you is that you will show me where the Immortal lives; for I should very much like to visit him.’

  ‘It is quite close,’ said the woodcutter. ‘This mountain is called the Holy Terrace Mountain, and on it is a cave called the Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars. In that cave lives an Immortal called the Patriarch Subodhi. In his time he has had innumerable disciples, and at this moment there are some thirty or forty of them studying with him. You have only to follow that small path southwards for eight or nine leagues,* and you will come to his home.’

  ‘Honoured brother,’ said Monkey, drawing the woodcutter towards him,’ come with me, and if I profit by the visit I will not forget that you guided me.’

  ‘It takes a lot to make some people understand,’ said the woodcutter. ‘I’ve just been telling you why I can’t go. If I went with you, what would become of my work ? Who would give my old mother her food ? I must go on cutting my wood, and you must find your way alone.’

  When Monkey heard this, he saw nothing for it but to say good-bye. He left the wood, found the path, went uphill for some seven or eight leagues and sure enough found a cave-dwelling. But the door was locked. All was quiet, and there was no sign of anyone being about. Suddenly he turned his head and saw on top of the cliff a stone slab about thirty feet high and eight feet wide. On it was an inscription in large letters saying,’ Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars on the Mountain of the Holy Terrace’. ‘People here,’ said Monkey, ‘are certainly very truthful. There really is such a mountain, and such a cave!’ He looked about for a while, but did not venture to knock at the door. Instead he jumped up into a pine-tree and began eating the pine-seed and playing among the branches. After a time he heard someone call; the door of the cave opened and a fairy boy of great beauty came out, in appearance utterly unlike the common lads that he had seen till now.

  The boy shouted,’ Who is making a disturbance out there ?’

  Monkey leapt down from his tree, and coming forward said with a bow, ‘Fairy boy, I am a pupil who has come to study Immortality. I should not dream of making a disturbance.’

  ‘You a pupil!’ said the boy laughing.

  ‘To be sure,’ said Monkey.

  ‘My master is lecturing,’ said the boy. ‘But before he gave out his theme he told me to go to the door and if anyone came asking for instruction, I was to look after him. I suppose he meant you.’

  ‘Of course he meant me,’ said Monkey.

  ‘Follow me this way,’ said the boy.

  Monkey tidied himself and followed the boy into the cave. Huge chambers opened out before them, they went on from room to room, through lofty halls and innumerable cloisters and retreats, till they came to a platform of green jade, upon which was seated the Patriarch Subodhi, with thirty lesser Immortals assembled before him. Monkey at once prostrated himself and bumped his head three times upon the ground, murmuring,’ Master, master! As pupil to teacher I pay you my humble respects.’

  ‘Where do you come from?’ asked the Patriarch. ‘First tell me your country and name, and then pay your respects again.’

  ‘I am from the Water Curtain Cave,’ said Monkey, ‘on the Mountain of Fruit and Flowers in the country of Ao-lai.’

  ‘Go away!’ shouted the Patriarch.’ I know the people there. They’re a tricky, humbugging set. It’s no good one of them supposing he’s going to achieve Enlightenment.’

  Monkey, kow-towing violently, hastened to say, ‘There’s no trickery about this; it’s just the plain truth I’m telling you.’

  ‘If you claim that you’re telling the truth,’ said the Patriarch, ‘how is it that you say you came from Ao-lai? Between there and here there are two oceans and the whole of the Southern Continent. How did you get here ?’

  ‘I floated over the oceans and wandered over the lands for ten years and more,’ said Monkey, ‘till at last I reached here.’

  ‘Oh well,’ said the Patriarch, ‘I suppose if you came by easy stages, it’s not altogether impossible. But tell me, what is yoxa hsing?’*

  ‘I never show bsing,’ said Monkey. ‘If I am abused, I am not at all annoyed. If I am hit, I am not angry; but on the contrary, twice more polite than before. All my life I have never shown hsing.’

  ‘I don’t mean that kind o£ bsing,’ said the Patriarch. ‘I mean what was your family, what surname had they ?’

  ‘I had no family,’ said Monkey, ‘neither father nor mother.’

  ‘Oh indeed!’ said the Patriarch. ‘Perhaps you grew on a tree!’

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Monkey. ‘I came out of a stone. There was a magic stone on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit When its time came, it burst open and I came out.’

  ‘We shall have to see about giving you a school-name,’ said the Patriarch. ‘We have twelve words that we use in these names, according to the grade of the pupil. You are in the tenth grade.’

  ‘What are the twelve words ?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘They are Wide, Big, Wise, Clever, True, Conforming, Nature, Ocean, Lively, Aware, Perfect, and Illumined. As you belong to the tenth grade, the word Aware must come in your name. How about A ware-of-Vacuity ?’

  ‘Splendid!’ said Monkey, laughing. ‘From now onwards let me be called A ware-of-Vacuity.’

  So that was his name in religion. And if you do not know whether in the end, equipped with this name, he
managed to obtain enlightenment or not, listen while it is explained to you in the next chapter.

  CHAPTER II

  MONKEY was so pleased with his new name that he skipped up and down in front of the Patriarch, bowing to express his gratitude. Subodhi then ordered his pupils to take Monkey to the outer rooms and teach him how to sprinkle and dust, answer properly when spoken to, how to come in, go out, and go round. Then he bowed to his fellow-pupils and went out into the corridor, where he made himself a sleeping place. Early next morning he and the others practised the correct mode of speech and bearing, studied the Scriptures, discussed doctrine, practised writing, burnt incense. And in this same way he passed day after day, spending his leisure in sweeping the floor, hoeing the garden, growing flowers and tending trees, getting firewood and lighting the fire, drawing water and carrying it in buckets. Everything he needed was provided for him. And so he lived in the cave, while time slipped by, for six or seven years. One day the Patriarch, seated in state, summoned all his pupils and began a lecture on the Great Way. Monkey was so delighted by what he heard that he tweaked his ears and rubbed his cheeks; his brow flowered and his eyes laughed. He could not stop his hands from dancing, his feet from stamping. Suddenly the Patriarch caught sight of him and shouted, ‘What is the use of your being here if, instead of listening to my lecture, you jump and dance like a maniac ?’

  ‘I am listening with all my might,’ said Monkey. ‘But you were saying such wonderful things that I could not contain myself for joy. That is why I may, for all I know, have been hopping and jumping. Don’t be angry with me.’

  ‘So you recognize the profundity of what I am saying?’ said the Patriarch. ‘How long, pray, have you been in the cave?’

  ‘It may seem rather silly,’ said Monkey, ‘but really I don’t know how long. All I can remember is that when I was sent to get firewood, I went up the mountain behind the cave, and there I found a whole slope covered with peach-trees. I have eaten my fill of those peaches seven times.’

  ‘It is called the Hill of Bright Peach Blossom,’ said the Patriarch. ‘If you have eaten there seven times, I suppose you have been here seven years. What sort of wisdom are you now hoping to learn from me ?’

  ‘I leave that to you,’ said Monkey. ‘Any sort of wisdom –it’s all one to me.’

  “There are three hundred and sixty schools of wisdom,’ said the Patriarch, ‘and all of them lead to Self-attainment. Which school do you want to study ?’

  ‘Just as you think best,’ said Monkey. ‘I am all attention.’

  ‘Well, how about Art?’ said the Patriarch. ‘Would you like me to teach you that ?’

  ‘What sort of wisdom is that?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘You would be able to summon fairies and ride the Phoenix,’ said the Patriarch, ‘divine by shuffling the yarrow-stalks and know how to avoid disaster and pursue good fortune.’

  ‘But should I live forever ?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘Certainly not,’ said the Patriarch.

  ‘Then that’s no good to me,’ said Monkey.

  ‘How about natural philosophy?’ said the Patriarch.

  ‘What is that about ?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘It means the teaching of Confucius,’ said the Patriarch, ‘and of Buddha and Lao Tzu, of the Dualists and Mo Tzu and the Doctors of Medicine; reading scriptures, saying prayers, learning how to have adepts and sages at your beck and call.’

  ‘But should I live forever ?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘If that’s what you are thinking about,’ said the Patriarch, ‘I am afraid philosophy is no better than a prop in the wall.’

  ‘Master,’ said Monkey, ‘I am a plain, simple man, and I don’t understand that sort of patter. What do you mean by a prop in the wall?’

  ‘When men are building a room,’ said the Patriarch, ‘and want it to stand firm, they put a pillar to prop up the walls. But one day the roof falls in and the pillar rots.’

  “That doesn’t sound much like long life,’ said Monkey. ‘I’m not going to learn philosophy!’

  ‘How about Quietism ?’ asked the Patriarch.

  ‘What does that consist of?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘Low diet,’ said the Patriarch, ‘inactivity, meditation, restraint of word and deed, yoga practised prostrate or standing.’

  ‘But should I live forever ?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘The results of Quietism,’ said the Patriarch, ‘are no better than unbaked clay in the kiln.’

  ‘You’ve got a very poor memory,’ said Monkey. ‘Didn’t I tell you just now that I don’t understand that sort of patter? What do you mean by unbaked clay in the kiln ?’

  ‘The bricks and tiles,’ said the Patriarch,’ may be waiting, all shaped and ready, in the kiln; but if they have not yet been fired, there will come a day when heavy rain falls and they are washed away.’

  ‘That does not promise well for the future,’ said Monkey. ‘I don’t think I’ll bother about Quietism.’

  ‘You might try exercises,’ said the Patriarch.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘Various forms of activity,’ said the Patriarch, ‘such as the exercises called “Gathering the Yin and patching the Yang”, “Drawing the Bow and Treading the Catapult”, “Rubbing the Navel to pass breath”. Then there are alchemical practices such as the Magical Explosion, Burning the Reeds and Striking the Tripod, Promoting Red Lead, Melting the Autumn Stone, and Drinking Bride’s Milk.’

  ‘Would these make me live forever ?’ asked Monkey.

  ‘To hope for that,’ said the Patriarch, ‘would be like trying to fish the moon out of the water.’

  ‘There you go again!’ said Monkey. ‘What pray do you mean by fishing the moon out of the water ?’

  ‘When the moon is in the sky,’ said the Patriarch, ‘it is reflected in the water. It looks just like a real thing, but if you try to catch hold of it, you find it is only an illusion.’

  “That does not sound much good,’ said Monkey; ‘I shan’t learn exercises.’

  ‘Tut!’ cried the Patriarch, and coming down from the platform, he caught hold of the knuckle-rapper and pointed it at Monkey, saying, ‘You wretched simian 1 You won’t learn this and you won’t learn that! I should like to know what it is you do want.’ And so saying he struck Monkey over the head three times. Then he folded his hands behind his back and strode off into the inner room, dismissing his audience and locking the door behind him. The pupils all turned indignantly upon Monkey.

  ‘You villainous ape,’ they shouted at him, ‘do you think that is the way to behave ? The Master offers to teach you, and instead of accepting thankfully you begin arguing with him. Now he’s thoroughly offended and goodness knows when he’ll come back.’ They were all very angry and poured abuse on him; but Monkey was not in the least upset, and merely replied by a broad grin. The truth of the matter was, he understood the language of secret signs. That was why he did not take up the quarrel or attempt to argue. He knew that the Master, by striking him three times, was giving him an appointment at the third watch; and by going off with his hands folded behind his back, meant that Monkey was to look for him in the inner apartments. The locking of the door meant that he was to come round by the back door and would then receive instruction.

  The rest of the day he frolicked with the other pupils in front of the cave, impatiently awaiting the night. As soon as dusk came, like the others, he went to his sleeping place. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, breathing softly and regularly. In the mountains there is no watchman to beat the watches or call the hours. The best Monkey could do was to count his incoming and outgoing breaths. When he reckoned that it must be about the hour of the Rat (i i p.m.-i a.m.) he got up very quietly and slipped on his clothes, softly opened the front door, left his companions, and went round to the back door. Sure enough, it was only half shut. ‘The Master certainly means to give me instruction,’ said Monkey to himself. ‘That is why he left the door open.’ So he crept in and
went straight to the Master’s bed. Finding him curled up and lying with his face to the wall, Monkey dared not wake him, and knelt down beside the bed. Presently the Patriarch woke, stretched out his legs and murmured to himself.

  Hard, very bard!

  The Way is most secret.

  Never handle the Golden Elixir as though it were a mere toy I

  He who to unworthy ears entrusts the dark truths

  To no purpose works his jaws and talks his tongue dry.

  ‘Master, I’ve been kneeling here for some time,’ said Monkey, when he saw the Patriarch was awake.

  ‘You wretched Monkey,’ said Subodhi, who on recogni2ing his voice pulled off the bed-clothes and sat up. ‘Why aren’t you asleep in your own quarters, instead of coming round behind to mine?’

  ‘At the lecture today,’ said Monkey, ‘you ordered me to come for instruction at the third watch, by way of the back gate. That is why I ventured to come straight to your bed.’

  The Patriarch was delighted. He thought to himself ‘This fellow must really be, as he says, a natural product of Heaven and Earth. Otherwise he would never have understood my secret signs.’

  ‘We are alone together,’ said Monkey, ‘there is no one to overhear us. Take pity upon me and teach me the way of Long Life. I shall never forget your kindness.’

  ‘You show a disposition,’ said the Patriarch. ‘You understood my secret signs. Come close and listen carefully. I am going to reveal to you the Secret of Long Life.’

  Monkey beat his head on the floor to show his gratitude, washed his ears and attended closely, kneeling beside the bed. The Patriarch then recited: