夜叉報龍 The Yaksha's Report
這正是:「路上說話,草裡有人。」原來這涇河水府有一個巡水的夜叉,聽見了百下百著之言,急轉水晶宮,慌忙報與龍王道:「禍事了!禍事了!」龍王問:「有甚禍事?」夜叉道:「臣巡水去到河邊,只聽得兩個漁、樵攀話,相別時,言語甚是利害。那漁翁說:長安城裡,西門街上,有個賣卦先生,算得最準。他每日送他鯉魚一尾,他就袖傳一課,教他百下百著。若依此等算準,卻不將水族盡情打了?何以壯觀水府,何以躍浪翻波,輔助大王威力?」龍王甚怒,急提了劍,就要上長安城,誅滅這賣卦的。旁邊閃過龍子、龍孫、蝦臣、蟹士、鰣軍師、鱖少卿、鯉太宰,一齊啟奏道:「大王且息怒。常言道:『過耳之言,不可聽信。』大王此去,必有雲從,必有雨助,恐驚了長安黎庶,上天見責。大王隱顯莫測,變化無方,但只變一秀士,到長安城內訪問一番。果有此輩,容加誅滅不遲;若無此輩,可不是妄害他人也?」这正是:「路上说话,草里有人。」原来这泾河水府有一个巡水的夜叉,听见了百下百着之言,急转水晶宫,慌忙报与龙王道:「祸事了!祸事了!」龙王问:「有甚祸事?」夜叉道:「臣巡水去到河边,只听得两个渔、樵攀话,相别时,言语甚是利害。那渔翁说:长安城里,西门街上,有个卖卦先生,算得最准。他每日送他鲤鱼一尾,他就袖传一课,教他百下百着。若依此等算准,却不将水族尽情打了?何以壮观水府,何以跃浪翻波,辅助大王威力?」龙王甚怒,急提了剑,就要上长安城,诛灭这卖卦的。旁边闪过龙子、龙孙、虾臣、蟹士、鲥军师、鳜少卿、鲤太宰,一齐启奏道:「大王且息怒。常言道:『过耳之言,不可听信。』大王此去,必有云从,必有雨助,恐惊了长安黎庶,上天见责。大王隐显莫测,变化无方,但只变一秀士,到长安城内访问一番。果有此辈,容加诛灭不迟;若无此辈,可不是妄害他人也?」
逐句解 Line by line
This was a case of the saying: 'Words spoken on the road, and someone lying in the grass.'
路上說話,草裡有人, 'talk on the road, a man in the grass,' is the Chinese for walls having ears — except that here it is meant literally. The proverb frames the disaster now beginning.
It happened that the Jing River's water-court kept a water-patrolling yaksha, who, hearing these words of 'a hundred hits in a hundred casts,' rushed back to the Crystal Palace and reported in alarm to the Dragon King: 'Disaster! Disaster!'
夜叉 (yèchā, from the Sanskrit yakṣa) is a demon of the dragon's retinue, here on river patrol; 水府 and 水晶宮 are his master's undersea court. What he carries home is the one phrase Zhang Shao should not have said out loud. 著 in 百下百著 is zháo, and 涇 is jīng.
The Dragon King asked: 'What disaster is this?'
A useful pair to set side by side: 甚 in 有甚, 'what,' is the question-word shén, while the 甚是 of the very next speech, 'most, very,' is shèn. One character, two jobs, two lines apart.
The yaksha said: 'Your servant, patrolling the water, came to the riverbank and overheard a fisherman and a woodcutter talking; as they parted, their words were most alarming. The fisherman said that here in Chang'an, on West Gate Street, there is a fortune-teller who divines with perfect accuracy. Every day he brings the man a carp, and the man passes him a hexagram from his sleeve, so that he scores a hundred hits in a hundred casts. If his reckonings are always so exact, will he not fish out our whole water-tribe? How then are we to keep the water-court in its splendor, to leap the waves and toss the billows, and uphold Your Majesty's might?'
Watch how the yaksha pitches it. He does not say the diviner is bad for fish; he says the diviner is bad for the throne — fish out the water-tribe and there goes the splendor of the court, the leaping of waves, His Majesty's whole standing. It is the oldest move in the courtier's book, translating a small problem into a threat to the boss. 甚 in 甚是, 'most, very,' is shèn; 得 in 聽得 and 算得 is the unstressed de that hangs a result onto a verb; 著 in 百下百著 is zháo. 相 in 相別 is xiāng, 那 in 那漁翁 is nà, 長 in 長安 is cháng, and 盡 in 盡情 is jìn.
The Dragon King, in a great fury, snatched up his sword and would have gone straight up to Chang'an to destroy this fortune-teller.
誅滅 is to put to death, to wipe out — and the Dragon King has the sword in his hand before anyone has established that the man exists. That reflex is the flaw that undoes him. 甚 in 甚怒, 'greatly enraged,' is shèn; 長 in 長安 is cháng.
From the side stepped the dragon-sons and dragon-grandsons, the shrimp courtiers and crab officers, the shad field-marshal, the mandarin-fish vice-minister, and the carp grand-steward, who all petitioned together: 'Let Your Majesty stay your anger. As the common saying goes, "Words that pass the ear are not to be believed." If Your Majesty goes forth, clouds will surely follow and rain attend you, and you will alarm the common folk of Chang'an and draw down Heaven's censure. Your Majesty's comings and goings are beyond fathoming, your transformations without limit: only change into a scholar and go into Chang'an to make inquiry. If such a man truly exists, there will be time enough to destroy him; and if he does not, would you not be harming an innocent for nothing?'
The court that steps forward is a civil service in miniature, staffed by fish: 鰣 the shad as field-marshal, 鱖 the mandarin fish as vice-minister, 鯉 the carp as grand-steward, with shrimp and crab filling the lower ranks. It is a joke, and it is not only a joke: the water-court mirrors the human ministries closely enough that the advice it gives sounds like real advice. And it is real advice. 過耳之言,不可聽信, 'words that merely pass the ear are not to be believed,' is exactly right about hearsay; 黎庶 are the common people, who should not be terrified by a storm over a private quarrel. 龍子 takes 子 as zǐ, 'son'; 少 in 少卿, 'vice-minister,' is shào, a rank; both 長 in 長安 are cháng. The tragedy is that the dragon will take only the first half of what they tell him.
The scene shifts underwater, and the chapter's machinery engages. A patrolling yaksha carries the overheard boast to the Dragon King of the Jing and frames it not as a danger to the river's fish but as a threat to the dragon's sovereignty: if a mortal diviner can direct every cast, the water-court's power is broken. The undersea realm is drawn as a full mirror of the human one, staffed by a solemn bureaucracy of shrimp and crab officials and fish ministers — the shad as field-marshal, the mandarin-fish as vice-minister, the carp as grand-steward — a comic-heroic conceit the novel never tires of.
The heart of the passage is the dragon's fatal flaw. His courtiers give him wise and complete advice: hearsay is not to be trusted; a display of clouds and rain would terrify the people of Chang'an and draw down Heaven's censure; so investigate quietly, in disguise, before doing anyone harm. The counsel is impeccable, and the tragedy of the chapter lies in his taking only part of it. He does go in disguise — and then his pride, and the wager the diviner goads him into, lead him to exactly the display of unlawful rain the ministers warned against, and so to his death. In a few lines the council scene plants both the escape the dragon is offered and the doom he chooses instead.