The Pilgrim received her instruction gladly.

領教, "to receive instruction" (教 read jiào). The assent is remarkably swift; Wukong is quarrelsome but not stupid, and he has just been told how to end a fight he could not win.

The Bodhisattva stepped forward and plucked away the luminous pearl from beneath the little dragon's chin.

項下明珠, the luminous pearl beneath the dragon's chin, is the seat of a dragon's power and the emblem of his nature. It was for burning such a pearl that he was condemned; it is by surrendering one that he is transformed. The rhapsody at the duel showed this pearl "spitting out a coloured mist" — the weapon is now simply taken away.

She dipped a sprig of willow in the sweet dew, brushed it once across his body, blew upon him a breath of immortal air, and cried aloud: "Change!"

楊柳枝 and 甘露, the willow sprig and sweet dew, are Guanyin's constant attributes in Chinese iconography, instruments of healing and lustration. 將 is the coverb (jiāng); 吹口仙氣, "to blow a breath of immortal air," is the standard means of transformation in this novel.

And the dragon changed at once into the very image of the horse, hair and hide the same.

毛片, "hair and markings." He becomes not merely a horse but that horse — the one he devoured — so that Sanzang shall find his own mount restored to him.

Then she gave him her charge in words: "You must set your heart on discharging your karmic debt. When your merit is accomplished, you shall rise above the common dragons, and I will give you back a golden body and the true fruit."

還了業障 takes 還 as huán, "to repay, to discharge"; 業障 (Skt. karmāvaraṇa) is the obstruction accumulated by one's deeds. 還你個金身正果 — 還 again huán, "to give back": the golden body is not a reward but a restitution, the nature he forfeited returned to him.

The little dragon took the bit-bone in his mouth and, in his heart of hearts, assented.

口啣著橫骨 — the 橫骨 is the crosswise bone of the mouth, on which a bit rests; the durative 著 is zhe. 心心領諾, "assented in his heart of hearts": having taken the bit, the dragon can no longer speak, and consents in the only way left to a horse. It is the exact image of the chapter's title — 意馬收韁, the will-horse reined in.

The Bodhisattva bade Wukong lead him to see Sanzang.

教 is causative, jiào. Guanyin does not present the horse to Sanzang herself; the disciple must lead it to the master, which is the whole of Wukong's office.

"And I shall return to the sea."

海上, "the sea," i.e. her island of Potalaka. She turns to depart, and is at once seized.

The Pilgrim seized hold of the Bodhisattva and would not let her go, saying: "I will not go on. I will not go on.

扯住…不放, "to seize and not let go." The Great Sage, having just won his horse, clutches at a Bodhisattva's robe like a child; the doubling of 我不去了 is petulance rendered exactly.

The road to the West is rugged as this, and I must guard this mortal monk. When shall we ever arrive?

崎嶇, "rugged, broken"; 凡僧, "a mortal monk," said with some contempt. 幾時得到 takes potential 得 (dé).

With such grinding and such wearing as this, old Sun's very life can hardly be kept whole. What merit shall I ever accomplish?

似這等 — 似 read sì, "at this rate"; 多磨多折, "much grinding, much breaking," of ordeals; 功果, the merit and its fruit. 成得甚麼 takes 得 as dé and 甚 as shén.

I will not go on. I will not go on."

The refrain returns unchanged. It is worth noticing that the complaint is not about the fillet now, nor the dragon, but simply about the length of the road.

Said the Bodhisattva: "In the years when you had not yet attained the Way of man, you were willing to give your whole heart to the cultivation of insight; now that you have escaped Heaven's calamity, how is it that you turn slothful?

未成人道, "before you had attained the Way of man," i.e. in his beast's beginnings; 修悟, "to cultivate insight." 盡 is always jìn. Her rebuke is not that he complains but that he has grown lazier since being saved than he was when he was nothing.

In my gate it is by extinction that one becomes true; you must have faith in the true fruit.

我門中, "within my gate," i.e. the Buddhist school. 寂滅 (jìmiè) renders Sanskrit nirvāṇa, "extinction"; the paradox — that by extinction one becomes true — is stated flatly and left to work.

If ever you come to a place of wounding and bitter torment, I grant you this: call upon Heaven, and Heaven will answer; call upon Earth, and Earth will prove efficacious.

傷身苦磨, "wounding of the body and bitter grinding"; 叫天天應 takes 應 as yìng, "to answer." The promise inverts a proverbial expression of utter helplessness — to call on Heaven and Earth and get no answer.

And if you come at the last to some pass from which there is no escaping, I will come myself to save you.

十分, "utterly, in the extreme"; 難脫之際, "a pass hard to escape from" (難 read nán). The undertaking is unconditional, and the novel will hold her to it many times.

Come here to me. I will bestow on you one further power."

一般本事, "one further art or power." Having refused to release him, she equips him instead — which is, in this novel, what compassion generally looks like.

The Bodhisattva plucked three leaves from her willow, set them behind the Pilgrim's head, and cried: "Change!"

楊柳葉兒, "willow leaves," from the same sprig that transformed the dragon. 將 is the coverb (jiāng).

They changed straightway into three life-saving hairs.

救命的毫毛, "life-saving hairs." Wukong's body is already a magazine of transformable hairs; these three are different in kind, being Guanyin's and not his own.

She charged him, saying: "When you come to a season with no aid and no master, you may shift and turn as the moment requires, and they shall save you from the calamity of your extremity."

無濟無主, "without aid and without a master"; 隨機應變, "to adapt as the moment requires," with 應 read yìng. 救得 takes potential 得 (dé).

When the Pilgrim had heard all these good words, he thanked at last the greatly merciful, greatly compassionate Bodhisattva.

大慈大悲, "greatly merciful and greatly compassionate," is Guanyin's formal epithet. He had opened this scene by flinging her titles at her as insults; he closes it by using one of them, at last, as it is meant.

And the Bodhisattva, wreathed in fragrant wind and drifting coloured mist, went straight back to Potalaka and away.

香風繞繞，彩霧飄飄 — a rhythmic, reduplicative flourish; 普陀 is Putuo, the Chinese seat of Potalaka. She leaves without ceremony, as she came.