拜佛撞鐘 Bowing to the Bodhisattva, Striking the Bell
那和尚只得同三藏與行者進了山門。山門裡，又見那正殿上書四個大字，是「觀音禪院」。三藏又大喜道：「弟子屢感菩薩聖恩，未及叩謝。今遇禪院，就如見菩薩一般，甚好拜謝。」那和尚聞言，即命道人開了殿門，請三藏朝拜。那行者拴了馬，丟了行李，同三藏上殿。三藏展背舒身，鋪胸納地，望金像叩頭。那和尚便去打鼓。行者就去撞鐘。三藏俯伏臺前，傾心禱祝。祝拜已畢，那和尚住了鼓，行者還只管撞鐘不歇，或緊或慢，撞了許久。那道人道：「拜已畢了，還撞鐘怎麼？」行者方丟了鐘杵，笑道：「你那裡曉得！我這是『做一日和尚撞一日鐘』的。」那和尚只得同三藏与行者进了山门。山门里，又见那正殿上书四个大字，是「观音禅院」。三藏又大喜道：「弟子屡感菩萨圣恩，未及叩谢。今遇禅院，就如见菩萨一般，甚好拜谢。」那和尚闻言，即命道人开了殿门，请三藏朝拜。那行者拴了马，丢了行李，同三藏上殿。三藏展背舒身，铺胸纳地，望金像叩头。那和尚便去打鼓。行者就去撞钟。三藏俯伏台前，倾心祷祝。祝拜已毕，那和尚住了鼓，行者还只管撞钟不歇，或紧或慢，撞了许久。那道人道：「拜已毕了，还撞钟怎么？」行者方丢了钟杵，笑道：「你那里晓得！我这是『做一日和尚撞一日钟』的。」
逐句解 Line by line
The monk had no choice but to go in through the mountain gate together with Sanzang and the Pilgrim.
只得 takes dé, the potential reading — "could only." The monk who has just called Wukong a thing must now walk in beside him.
Within the gate they saw, inscribed above the main hall, four great characters: Guanyin Chan Monastery.
上書, "written above." 禪院 is a Chan cloister. The name over the door is the chapter's whole irony set out in four graphs: it is Guanyin's own house, and it is the house that will plot murder before the night is out.
Sanzang was greatly pleased. "This disciple has felt the Bodhisattva's holy grace many times over, and has never yet had the chance to knock his head in thanks.
屢感, "have repeatedly received." Sanzang has good cause: nearly every deliverance on the road so far — the fillet, the dragon-horse, the guardians who ride unseen behind him — has been Guanyin's doing.
"To come upon this cloister today is as good as beholding the Bodhisattva herself. It is most fitting that I bow my thanks."
一般 ("just the same as"; 般 is bān) collapses the image into the person, which is precisely the pious reading of an icon. 甚好 is shèn hǎo, "very good."
Hearing this, the monk at once ordered the lay servant to open the doors of the hall, and invited Sanzang to make his devotions.
道人 here is no Daoist but the monastery's lay servant — a common Ming usage, and a reminder of how porous the two clergies were on the ground. 朝拜 (cháobài) is to worship facing the image.
The Pilgrim tethered the horse, flung down the baggage, and went up into the hall with Sanzang.
The verbs betray the man. Sanzang will shortly perform a full prostration; Wukong 拴 (shuān, ties up) the horse and 丟 (flings down) the luggage. His reverence, when it comes, is never fussy — and never quite reverent.
Sanzang spread out his back and stretched his frame, laid his breast to the ground, and knocked his head before the golden image.
鋪胸納地 — 鋪 is pū, "to spread out" — describes the full prostration in which back, breast and brow all meet the floor. The four verbs of the line trace the body's whole descent.
The monk went to beat the drum. The Pilgrim went straight to strike the bell. Sanzang lay prostrate before the dais and prayed with all his heart.
The paired 打鼓 and 撞鐘 are the ritual accompaniment of worship. That Wukong seizes the bell-rope unbidden, and that the text gives him 就去 ("went straight to it"), is the first crack in the decorum. 傾心, to pour out the heart.
The prayers and prostrations done, the monk stilled his drum; but the Pilgrim only kept on ringing the bell without a pause, now fast, now slow, and rang it a long while.
還只管 — 還 is hái, "still," and 只管 "went right on regardless." 或緊或慢, "now tight, now slack," is the rhythm of a man enjoying himself. The bell that summons a monastery to prayer has become a toy.
The lay servant said, "The worship is finished. What are you still ringing the bell for?"
The servant's 還撞鐘怎麼 is flat exasperation, 還 again hái. It is a small dramatic economy: the whole house is about to come running, and the text has one bystander ask the question first.
Only then did the Pilgrim let go the bell-hammer. He laughed and said, "How would you know? With me it is a case of: be a monk for a day, ring the bell for a day."
那裡曉得 — 那 is nǎ, "how would you," and 曉得 takes the neutral de. 做一日和尚撞一日鐘 ("be a monk a day, toll the bell a day") is proverbial for doing the duty of whatever day one finds oneself in. Wukong quotes it with a straight face, having been a monk for rather less than a season.
The passage sets two devotions side by side. Sanzang, learning whose house this is, performs the full prostration — 展背舒身，鋪胸納地 — and prays with a whole heart to the Bodhisattva who has been rescuing him since the Double-Fork Ridge. Wukong strikes the bell. Then he goes on striking it, fast and slow, long after the prayer is over, until the entire monastery comes boiling out of its cells. Both are acts of worship in a Guanyin cloister; only one is what the liturgy had in mind.
The joke Wukong makes is better than it looks. 做一日和尚撞一日鐘 is ordinarily a shrug — the phrase a man uses of work he means to do adequately and no more. In Wukong's mouth it becomes almost a doctrine of the road: he is a monk today, therefore today he rings the bell, and rings it until the ringing is finished. Wú Chéng'ēn is fond of letting his monkey stumble into orthodoxy by way of insolence. And the noise is not wasted: the bell brings out every monk in the house, which is exactly the introduction the next passage requires.