廟祝贈鞍 The Temple-Keeper's Saddle
行者的眼乖,見他房簷下有一條搭衣的繩子,走將去,一把扯斷,將馬腳繫住。那老者笑道:「這馬是那裡偷來的?」行者怒道:「你那老頭子,說話不知高低。我們是拜佛的聖僧,又會偷馬?」老兒笑道:「不是偷的,如何沒有鞍轡韁繩,卻來扯斷我晒衣的索子?」三藏陪禮道:「這個頑皮,只是性燥。──你要拴馬,好生問老人家討條繩子,如何就扯斷他的衣索?──老先生,休怪,休怪。我這馬,實不瞞你說,不是偷的。昨日東來,至鷹愁陡澗,原有騎的一匹白馬,鞍轡俱全。不期那澗裡有條孽龍,在彼成精,他把我的馬連鞍轡一口吞之。幸虧我徒弟有些本事,又感得觀音菩薩來澗邊擒住那龍,教他就變做我原騎的白馬,毛片俱同,馱我上西天拜佛。今此過澗,未經一日,卻到了老先的聖祠,還不曾置得鞍轡哩。」那老者道:「師父休怪,我老漢作笑耍子,誰知你高徒認真。我小時也有幾個村錢,也好騎匹駿馬。只因累歲迍邅,遭喪失火,到此沒了下梢,故充為廟祝,侍奉香火。幸虧這後莊施主家募化度日。我那裡倒還有一副鞍轡,是我平日心愛之物,就是這等貧窮,也不曾捨得賣了。才聽老師父之言,菩薩尚且救護神龍,教他化馬馱你,我老漢卻不能少有周濟。明日將那鞍轡取來,願送老師父,扣背前去,乞為笑納。」三藏聞言,稱謝不盡。早又見童子拿出晚齋。齋罷,掌上燈,安了鋪,各各寢歇。行者的眼乖,见他房簷下有一条搭衣的绳子,走将去,一把扯断,将马脚系住。那老者笑道:「这马是那里偷来的?」行者怒道:「你那老头子,说话不知高低。我们是拜佛的圣僧,又会偷马?」老儿笑道:「不是偷的,如何没有鞍辔缰绳,却来扯断我晒衣的索子?」三藏陪礼道:「这个顽皮,只是性燥。──你要拴马,好生问老人家讨条绳子,如何就扯断他的衣索?──老先生,休怪,休怪。我这马,实不瞒你说,不是偷的。昨日东来,至鹰愁陡涧,原有骑的一匹白马,鞍辔俱全。不期那涧里有条孽龙,在彼成精,他把我的马连鞍辔一口吞之。幸亏我徒弟有些本事,又感得观音菩萨来涧边擒住那龙,教他就变做我原骑的白马,毛片俱同,驮我上西天拜佛。今此过涧,未经一日,却到了老先的圣祠,还不曾置得鞍辔哩。」那老者道:「师父休怪,我老汉作笑耍子,谁知你高徒认真。我小时也有几个村钱,也好骑匹骏马。只因累岁迍邅,遭丧失火,到此没了下梢,故充为庙祝,侍奉香火。幸亏这后庄施主家募化度日。我那里倒还有一副鞍辔,是我平日心爱之物,就是这等贫穷,也不曾舍得卖了。才听老师父之言,菩萨尚且救护神龙,教他化马驮你,我老汉却不能少有周济。明日将那鞍辔取来,愿送老师父,扣背前去,乞为笑纳。」三藏闻言,称谢不尽。早又见童子拿出晚斋。斋罢,掌上灯,安了铺,各各寝歇。
逐句解 Line by line
The Pilgrim's eye was sharp. Seeing under the eaves a rope hung out for clothes, he walked over, snapped it with one pull, and tied the horse's legs with it.
眼乖, "a sharp eye" (乖 in its older sense of "quick, clever"). In 走將去 the 將 is the directional particle; in 將馬腳繫住 it is the coverb — both read jiāng. Having no rein, he takes what is nearest, and asks nobody.
The old man laughed and said: "Where did you steal that horse?"
The first 那 is demonstrative (nà), the second interrogative (nǎ): 那裡偷來的, "whence stolen." The joke is amiable. It is not taken so.
The Pilgrim said angrily: "You old fellow, you talk without knowing high from low.
老頭子, "old codger," with 子 the neutral suffix (zi); 不知高低, "not to know what is fitting." The temper that would quarrel with a Bodhisattva is not proof against a countryman's teasing.
We are holy monks going to worship the Buddha. Should we be stealing horses?"
又會偷馬, "as if we should be stealing horses." Wukong, who has stolen peaches, wine, the elixir of immortality and a weapon from the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea, stands upon his dignity. 佛 is always fó.
The old man laughed: "If it is not stolen, why has it no saddle, no bridle and no rein — so that you must come and break my clothes-line?"
索子, "cord"; 晒衣, "to dry clothes in the sun." The old man's logic is unanswerable and entirely without malice, which makes it worse.
Sanzang made apology for him, saying: "This wild creature has nothing worse than a hasty temper.
陪禮, "to make apology on another's behalf"; 頑皮, "unruly, mischievous"; 性燥 (for 性躁), "of a hasty temper." The monk assumes the one office he fills well.
— If you wanted to tether the horse, you should have asked the old gentleman properly for a length of rope. How came you to snap his clothes-line?
The edition marks the turn of address with a pair of long dashes, as Sanzang wheels from his host to his disciple and back again. 好生, "properly, with care." The reproof is a parent's.
— Old sir, do not take it amiss, do not take it amiss. This horse of ours, I tell you truly and conceal nothing, was not stolen.
休怪, "do not blame us," doubled; 實不瞞你說, "in truth I will hide nothing from you." Sanzang's candour is his charm, and his loquacity is about to earn him a saddle.
Coming from the east yesterday, we reached Eagle-Grief Steep Gorge. We had a white horse to ride, with saddle and bridle complete.
俱全, "complete in every part." He begins, as all storytellers do, at the beginning.
But it fell out that in that gorge there was a vile dragon, grown to a sprite in the place, and it swallowed my horse, saddle, bridle and all, at a gulp.
不期, "unlooked for"; 成精, "grown to a sprite"; 一口吞之, "swallowed it at one mouthful" — the narrator's own phrase at the ambush, now in the victim's mouth. 那澗 is demonstrative, nà.
Happily my disciple has some arts, and moved the Bodhisattva Guanyin to come to the gorge and seize that dragon;
感得 takes the resultative 得 (de), "moved [her] so that she came." The monk's account gives his disciple the credit for the Bodhisattva's coming, which is close to the reverse of what happened — Wukong had been forbidden to fetch her, and a Guardian went instead.
and she bade it change into the very white horse I used to ride, hair and markings all alike, to bear me west to worship the Buddha.
教 is causative (jiào); 毛片俱同, "hair and markings all alike." Sanzang has grasped the facts at last, and grasped them accurately; he simply was not there to see them.
We crossed the gorge today, not one day since, and have come to your holy shrine, old sir — and I have not yet been able to procure a saddle and bridle."
還不曾 takes 還 as hái, "not yet"; 置得 takes the resultative 得 (de), on the pattern of 接得. 老先 is a clipped 老先生. The want of a saddle, first raised as an objection, is now confessed as a lack — and lands, unplanned, in exactly the right ear.
The old man said: "Master, do not take it amiss. This old fellow spoke in jest; who could know your worthy disciple would take it in earnest?
作笑耍子, "to speak in sport" (耍子, with the neutral suffix zi); 認真, "to take in earnest." The apology is unnecessary and freely offered, which is its own quiet rebuke to the disciple.
When I was young I had a few country coppers, and was fond enough of riding a fine horse.
村錢, "village money," a small country competence. The old man begins to tell his own history, and nobody has asked for it.
But through years of misfortune heaped on misfortune, mourning and fire, I came at last to this pass; so I took service as keeper of this shrine, and tend its incense.
累歲 takes 累 as lěi, "year upon year"; 迍邅 (zhūn zhān), "beset, going hard"; 遭喪 takes 喪 as sāng, "bereavement." 充為廟祝 — 為 read wéi, "to serve as" — a 廟祝 being the keeper of a shrine. 沒了下梢, "came to no good end."
Happily the households of the hamlet behind support me with their alms, and so I pass my days.
募化, "to beg alms"; 度日, "to pass the days." A 施主 (Skt. dānapati) is a lay donor. The man who is about to give away his one treasure lives entirely on other men's charity.
Now at my place there is still a saddle and bridle, a thing I have loved all my life; poor as I am, even so I could never bring myself to sell it.
我那裡 is demonstrative (nà), "at my place"; 倒還有 takes 還 as hái, "there yet is"; 捨得 takes 得 as de, "to bring oneself to part with." That he kept it through fire and mourning and beggary is what makes the gift a gift.
Just now, hearing the master's words — that a Bodhisattva should stoop to rescue a divine dragon, and bid it become a horse to carry you —
尚且, "even, so much as"; 救護, "to rescue and shelter." His reasoning is a fortiori, and unanswerable: if a Bodhisattva will stoop so far, what excuse has a poor man for withholding?
how then can this old fellow have so little as no help at all to give?
不能少有周濟 is a modest litotes — "cannot have even a little relief [to offer]" — where 周濟 is material assistance. He states his charity as though it were the avoidance of a disgrace.
Tomorrow I shall fetch out that saddle and bridle and gladly present them to the master, to be strapped upon its back for your journey. I beg you to accept them with a smile."
將 is the coverb (jiāng); 扣背, "to buckle upon the back." 乞為笑納 — 為 read wéi — is the polite epistolary formula for pressing a gift on a reluctant recipient.
Hearing this, Sanzang thanked him beyond all measure. And soon the boy was seen bringing out the evening meal.
稱謝不盡, "to thank without exhausting one's thanks" (盡 always jìn). 晚齋 is the evening meatless meal.
The meal done, they set up the lamps, laid out the bedding, and each lay down to rest.
掌上燈, "to raise the lamps"; 安了鋪, "to lay out the sleeping-mats"; 各各寢歇, "each lay down to rest." A chapter that opened on a frozen road and a devoured horse subsides into this domestic cadence.
The Great Sage, who has this day fought a dragon prince to a standstill and shouted down the Bodhisattva Guanyin, is undone by an old man's joke. Told his horse looks stolen, he flares; and the joke was earned, since he had just snapped the man's washing-line to serve as a tether. Sanzang apologises, and then — being incapable of brevity — tells the whole story: the gorge, the dragon, the Bodhisattva, the transformation, and the one thing still wanting. 還不曾置得鞍轡哩, "I have not yet been able to procure a saddle and bridle." He is not asking. He is simply, as always, saying more than he needs to, and this time it is the saving of him.
What the old man then does is the quiet culmination of the chapter. He is a ruined man — years of hardship, a death in the house, a fire, and at last a beggar's post as keeper of a village shrine, living on his neighbours' alms. He owns one good thing, kept back through all of it because he loved it, and he gives it away to a stranger, reasoning that if a Bodhisattva will stoop to rescue a dragon, a poor man can hardly plead poverty. Guanyin gave the pilgrimage its horse; a destitute temple-keeper gives it the bridle. The chapter is titled 意馬收韁, "the will-horse takes the rein," and the rein, it turns out, does not come down from Heaven at all. It comes out of an old man's cupboard, and it is offered with an apology.