師父搶白 The Master's Rebuke
行者沒及奈何，只得回見三藏道：「師父，這個怪被老孫罵將出來，他與我賭鬥多時，怯戰而走，只躲在水中間，再不出來了。」三藏道：「不知端的可是他吃了我馬？」行者道：「你看你說的話，不是他吃了，他還肯出來招聲，與老孫犯對？」三藏道：「你前日打虎時，曾說有降龍伏虎的手段，今日如何便不能降他？」原來那猴子吃不得人急他。見三藏搶白了他這一句，他就發起神威道：「不要說，不要說，等我與他再見個上下。」行者没及奈何，只得回见三藏道：「师父，这个怪被老孙骂将出来，他与我赌斗多时，怯战而走，只躲在水中间，再不出来了。」三藏道：「不知端的可是他吃了我马？」行者道：「你看你说的话，不是他吃了，他还肯出来招声，与老孙犯对？」三藏道：「你前日打虎时，曾说有降龙伏虎的手段，今日如何便不能降他？」原来那猴子吃不得人急他。见三藏抢白了他这一句，他就发起神威道：「不要说，不要说，等我与他再见个上下。」
逐句解 Line by line
The Pilgrim was at his wits' end, and could only go back and face Sanzang, saying:
沒及奈何 is a variant of 沒奈何 méi nài hé, "there is nothing to be done for it" — the flat phrase of a man out of options. 只得 is "could only", with 得 read dé in its "able to" sense. He has to go back and report a failure, which is the thing he is worst at in the world.
"Master, old Sun cursed that monster until it came out.
罵將出來 is "cursed him out into the open", 將 jiāng a hinge before the direction word. Listen to the shape of the report: it opens with the part that worked.
It contested with me a good while, then quailed at the fight and fled; now it hides in the middle of the water and will not come out again."
賭鬥 again, to have it out; 怯戰 is to lose one's nerve for a fight. 水中間 reads 中 as zhōng. And there is the failure, tucked in at the end where it might do least damage. It does not work.
Said Sanzang: "I wonder — was it really he who ate my horse?"
端的 duān dì is a Song and Yuan colloquial word for "really, in fact", and its 的 takes the full reading dì, not the unstressed everyday particle de. Sanzang has now been told twice, plainly, and still opens with "I wonder whether —". It is the wrong question at the worst possible moment, and it is about to cost him.
Said the Pilgrim: "Just listen to what you say! If he had not eaten it, would he still be willing to come out and answer back, and set himself against old Sun?"
招聲 is to answer back; 犯對, to square up to somebody. And here is the chapter's favourite trick, performed in plain sight: 還 in this line is hái, "still" — the identical character that in the war cry 還我馬來 is huán, "give back". One character, two words, a few lines apart.
Said Sanzang: "The other day, when you killed the tiger, you said you had the art of subduing dragons and taming tigers. How is it that today you cannot subdue this one?"
降龍伏虎 xiáng lóng fú hǔ, "subdue dragons and tame tigers", is the standing advertisement for an adept's powers, and 降 in it is read xiáng, to subdue — not jiàng, to descend, which is the reading the same character takes elsewhere in this chapter. The barb reaches back one chapter, to the tiger Wukong killed on the road. It lands with unusual accuracy for a man not trying to be cruel: his disciple has just watched a dragon sink out of reach, and he has picked exactly the boast to quote back.
Now this monkey could not bear to be pressed by anybody.
吃不得 is "cannot take it", the "able to" 得, read dé, under a negative; 急 is doing duty as a verb, to press or to needle somebody. The novel almost never stops to explain Wukong — it prefers to let him act and leave the reader to draw conclusions — so this one flat sentence of stage direction is the narrator leaning in to make sure we watch the goad go in.
Seeing that Sanzang had flung this remark in his teeth, he roused his divine might and said:
搶白 qiǎng bái is to snap something back at a person to their face. 發起神威 is to rouse the divine might. Sanzang has found the one lever that moves this creature, and as far as anyone can tell he has found it by accident.
"Say no more, say no more — let me have it out with him again and see which of us is uppermost."
見個上下 is "settle which of us is above and which below" — have it out properly, once. The doubled 不要說 is Wukong brushing his master aside on his way out of the scene.
The quarrel resumes with its terms changed. Before, Sanzang wept and forbade; now he doubts and needles. First the flat scepticism of 端的可是他吃了我馬 ("was it really he who ate my horse?"), then the barbed reminder that his disciple had boasted of the art of subduing dragons and taming tigers. The monk is no strategist. He has nonetheless located the single lever that will move this creature, and the novel pauses to tell us so — 原來那猴子吃不得人急他, "now this monkey could not bear to be pressed". That is a rare intervention. The narrator hardly ever explains Wukong.
It is worth watching how much of this chapter turns on one character read two ways. Wukong's war cry is 還我馬來, where 還 is huán, "give back"; a few lines later he says 他還肯出來招聲, where the same 還 is hái, "still". The same goes for 降, which is jiàng when blessings come down and xiáng when dragons are put down. Classical Chinese narrative enjoys this sort of doubleness, and the taunt lands harder for it: the man who claimed he could xiáng a dragon has just watched one sink out of reach.