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. This is the reading Chinese uses for what a speaker can or cannot manage, as against what he chooses — grammarians call it the potential, and the sense here is "could do nothing but." The monk who has just called Wukong a thing must now walk in through his own gate beside him.
Within the gate they saw, inscribed above the main hall, four great characters: Guanyin Chan Monastery.
上書 is "inscribed above." A 禪院 is a Chan cloister, Chan being the school the Japanese call Zen. The name over the door carries the chapter's whole irony in four characters: this is Guanyin's own house, the Bodhisattva of Compassion's, and it is the house that will plot a 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 is "to have received, again and again." Sanzang has good cause to say so: nearly every rescue on the road so far — the golden fillet, the dragon turned into his horse, the guardian spirits riding unseen behind him — has been Guanyin's arrangement.
"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 exactly how a devout man is supposed to read 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 looks like "Daoist" and is nothing of the kind: in a Ming monastery it is the lay servant who does the heavy work. The usage is a small reminder of how porous the two clergies were where people actually lived. 朝拜 (cháo bài) 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 is about to lay his whole body on the floor; Wukong 拴 (shuān, ties up) the horse and 丟 (flings down) the luggage. His reverence, when it arrives, 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 forehead all come to the floor together. The four verbs of the line trace the body's entire descent, one joint at a time.
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.
打鼓 and 撞鐘, beating the drum and striking the bell, are the ritual accompaniment to worship; nobody does this casually. That Wukong seizes the bell unbidden, and that the text gives him 就去, "went straight at it," is the first crack in the decorum. 傾心 is 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 is "kept right on regardless." 或緊或慢 — "now tight, now slack" — is the rhythm of somebody having a very good time. The bell that calls an entire 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 neat piece of stagecraft: the whole house is about to come boiling out, and the text lets one bystander ask the obvious 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."
Here is the joke everybody remembers from this scene. 那裡曉得 — 那 is nǎ, "how would you," and 曉得 takes a neutral de. Then the proverb: 做一日和尚撞一日鐘, "be a monk for a day, ring the bell for a day." It is still in daily use, and it is normally a shrug — what a man says about a job he means to do adequately and not one scrap more, the clock-watcher's motto. Wukong produces it with a completely straight face, having been a monk for rather less than a season.
The passage sets two devotions side by side. Sanzang, on learning whose house this is, performs the full prostration — 展背舒身，鋪胸納地 — and prays with his 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 pouring out of its cells. Both are acts of worship in a Guanyin cloister. Only one of them is what the liturgy had in mind.
The joke Wukong makes is better than it first looks. 做一日和尚撞一日鐘 is ordinarily a shrug about doing the bare minimum. In his mouth it turns into something close to a doctrine of the road: he is a monk today, therefore today he rings the bell, and he rings it until the ringing is finished. Wú Chéng'ēn is fond of letting his monkey blunder 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, and which no amount of polite knocking would have produced.