惡相驚翁 A Ghost at the Gate
行者道：「師父走動些，天色晚了。那壁廂樹木森森，想必是人家莊院，我們趕早投宿去來。」三藏果策馬而行，徑奔人家，到了莊院前下馬。行者撇了行李，走上前，叫聲：「開門！開門！」那裡面有一老者扶筇而出，唿喇的開了門。看見行者這般惡相，腰繫著一塊虎皮，好似個雷公模樣，諕得腳軟身麻，口出譫語道：「鬼來了！鬼來了！」三藏近前攙住，叫道：「老施主休怕。他是我貧僧的徒弟，不是鬼怪。」老者擡頭，見了三藏的面貌清奇，方才立定，問道：「你是那寺裡來的和尚，帶這惡人上我門來？」三藏道：「我貧僧是唐朝來的，往西天拜佛求經。適路過此間，天晚，特造檀府借宿一宵，明早不犯天光就行。萬望方便一二。」老者道：「你雖是個唐人，那個惡的卻非唐人。」行者道：「师父走动些，天色晚了。那壁厢树木森森，想必是人家庄院，我们赶早投宿去来。」三藏果策马而行，径奔人家，到了庄院前下马。行者撇了行李，走上前，叫声：「开门！开门！」那里面有一老者扶筇而出，唿喇的开了门。看见行者这般恶相，腰系著一块虎皮，好似个雷公模样，諕得脚软身麻，口出谵语道：「鬼来了！鬼来了！」三藏近前搀住，叫道：「老施主休怕。他是我贫僧的徒弟，不是鬼怪。」老者擡头，见了三藏的面貌清奇，方才立定，问道：「你是那寺里来的和尚，带这恶人上我门来？」三藏道：「我贫僧是唐朝来的，往西天拜佛求经。适路过此间，天晚，特造檀府借宿一宵，明早不犯天光就行。万望方便一二。」老者道：「你虽是个唐人，那个恶的却非唐人。」
逐句解 Line by line
The Pilgrim said, "Step lively, Master, the day is late. Over yonder the trees stand thick — surely a farmstead; let us hurry and find lodging early."
The dusk of the lyric sends them seeking shelter. 那壁廂 ("over there, yonder") reads 那 as nà; 行者 reads 行 as xíng.
Sanzang duly whipped his horse forward, made straight for the house, and dismounted before the farm gate.
The compliant monk rides to the farmhouse. 三藏 reads 藏 as zàng.
The Pilgrim flung down the baggage, stepped up, and called, "Open the gate! Open the gate!"
Wukong's brashness announces them — flinging down the load, hammering at the gate.
Within, an old man came out leaning on a staff and pulled the gate open with a rattle.
An old householder answers, 扶筇 ("leaning on a bamboo staff"), opening the gate with an onomatopoeic clatter (唿喇).
At the sight of the Pilgrim's fearsome aspect — a piece of tiger-skin bound at his waist, for all the world like the Duke of Thunder —
The comedy turns on the monkey's appalling appearance. 惡相 ("fearsome looks") takes 相 in its "appearance" sense, read xiàng; 繫著 uses the durative 著 (zhe). The 雷公 (Léigōng), the Duke of Thunder, is depicted with just such a beak-nosed, monkey-like, fearsome face — the very image the old man sees.
he was so frightened that his legs went weak and his body numb, and he babbled deliriously, "A ghost has come! A ghost has come!"
諕得 ("so frightened that") reads 諕 as xià and 得 as de; the old man takes Wukong for a ghost.
Sanzang came forward and steadied him, calling, "Do not be afraid, old patron; he is this poor monk's disciple, no ghost or goblin."
Sanzang's mild, refined presence is the counterweight to his monstrous disciple; he calms the householder. 施主 (shīzhǔ), "patron, donor," is the polite term for a lay benefactor of monks.
The old man raised his head, and seeing Sanzang's face fresh and refined, at last stood firm and asked, "From what temple do you come, reverend, that you bring this vicious fellow to my door?"
Reassured by the monk's cultivated face, the old man asks his question. 你是那寺裡來的和尚 ("from which temple do you come?") reads 那 as the interrogative nǎ ("which").
Sanzang said, "This poor monk comes from the land of Tang, journeying to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures.
Sanzang gives the standard account of himself and his mission — from Tang, bound for the Western Heaven. 拜佛 reads 佛 as fó.
Passing this way, and the day being late, I have come to your honoured house to beg one night's lodging; by first light, before the sky is bright, we shall be gone. I beg you show us this small kindness."
His request for a single night's lodging is couched in the elaborate courtesy of the road: 檀府 ("your patron's residence") flatters the host, and he promises an early, unobtrusive departure.
The old man said, "Though you may be a man of Tang, that vicious one is surely no man of Tang."
The old man's wary retort — a man of Tang perhaps, but not that fearsome creature — sets up Wukong's indignant outburst in the next passage.
The chapter's last episode is broad comedy. Seeking shelter at nightfall, the pair rouse an old farmer, who opens his gate to find Wukong — tiger-skin at his waist, face like the thunder-god — and cries out in terror that a ghost has come. The joke rests on the monkey's genuinely monstrous appearance, freshly acquired with the tiger-skin kilt.
The scene balances the two travellers deliberately: the disciple's fearsome aspect against the master's mild, refined face, which is what finally calms the old man. Sanzang's courteous self-introduction — from Tang, bound for the scriptures, begging one night's lodging — is the familiar diplomatic formula the monk will repeat at door after door across the journey.
The old man's parting doubt — a man of Tang, perhaps, but surely not that creature — is the cue for Wukong's indignant self-defence, which turns the comedy into the wordplay and mutual recognition of the passage that follows.