相貌取人 Judge Not by the Face
行者道：「老高，你空長了許大年紀，還不省事。若專以相貌取人，乾淨錯了。我老孫醜自醜，卻有些本事。替你家擒得妖精，捉得鬼魅，拿住你那女婿，還了你女兒，便是好事，何必諄諄以相貌為言？」太公見說，戰兢兢的，只得強打精神，叫聲：「請進。」這行者見請，才牽了白馬，教高才挑著行李，與三藏進去。他也不管好歹，就把馬拴在敞廳柱上，扯過一張退光漆交椅，叫師父坐下。他又扯過一張椅子，坐在傍邊。那高老道：「這個小長老，倒也家懷。」行者道：「你若肯留我住得半年，還家懷哩。」行者道：「老高，你空长了许大年纪，还不省事。若专以相貌取人，干净错了。我老孙丑自丑，却有些本事。替你家擒得妖精，捉得鬼魅，拿住你那女婿，还了你女儿，便是好事，何必谆谆以相貌为言？」太公见说，战兢兢的，只得强打精神，叫声：「请进。」这行者见请，才牵了白马，教高才挑着行李，与三藏进去。他也不管好歹，就把马拴在敞厅柱上，扯过一张退光漆交椅，叫师父坐下。他又扯过一张椅子，坐在傍边。那高老道：「这个小长老，倒也家怀。」行者道：「你若肯留我住得半年，还家怀哩。」
逐句解 Line by line
The Pilgrim said, "Old Gao, you have grown to these many years for nothing, and still know nothing of the world.
空長了許大年紀 is grown so old to no purpose, and 長 is zhǎng, to grow. 還 is hái, still, and 省事 means to have learnt how the world goes. Wukong is telling a village elder he has wasted his years.
If you will judge a man by his face alone, you go wholly wrong. Old Sun is ugly enough, but he has some skill.
As an adverb 乾淨 means utterly — clean wrong, in exactly the English idiom; 乾 is gān, not qián, the name of one of the eight three-line figures of the Book of Changes. 相貌 takes xiàng. And 醜自醜 doubles the word in order to concede it: ugly he may be, ugly.
If I catch the fiend for your household, seize the goblin, lay hold of that son-in-law of yours and give you back your daughter —
擒得 and 捉得 both take 得 as dé, the goal obtained. 還了你女兒 is huán, to give back. And notice the timing: the Pilgrim promises to return the daughter before anybody has told him there is a daughter shut up anywhere.
will that not be well done? Why harp so on a man's face?"
諄諄, zhūn zhūn, is earnestly and over and over, and it comes out of the 詩經 — a grand word to aim at an old farmer. 以相貌為言 takes 為 as wéi: to make a man's face the subject of talk.
Hearing this, the squire trembled, but forced up his spirits and said, "Please come in."
戰兢兢 is trembling. 強打精神 is to force your spirits up — 強 is qiǎng, to compel, not qiáng, strong, where the default reading goes. 只得 keeps 得 as dé: he had no choice.
Being asked, the Pilgrim at last led the white horse in, bade Gao Cai shoulder the baggage, and went inside with Sanzang.
見請 is being invited. 見 placed before a verb turns the sentence round so that the subject receives the action — the classical way of saying it was done to him. 挑著 is zhe. And note that Gao Cai, who put his own pack down at the gate, now picks up somebody else's.
Caring nothing for what was seemly, he tethered the horse to a pillar of the open hall, dragged over a lacquered armchair, and told his master to sit.
不管好歹 is without regard for what is fitting. 敞廳 is the open reception hall, the best room in the house, and he ties a horse to its pillar. 退光漆 is the dull-polished lacquer of good furniture. He drags the chair rather than carrying it.
Then he dragged over another chair and sat down beside him.
The second chair is the point. He seats himself beside his master, at a guest's level, in a hall where he has just tethered the horse. 傍邊 writes 旁邊, beside, so 傍 takes páng.
Old Gao said, "This little elder makes himself quite at home."
家懷 is to be at ease as though in your own house. Said of a guest it is not altogether a compliment, and 倒也 carries the old man's dry surprise: well, he certainly makes himself at home.
The Pilgrim said, "If you will let me lodge here half a year, I shall be more at home yet."
住得半年: 得 is the dé of ability. 還 is hái, here meaning even more so, and 哩 is li. The Pilgrim has heard the insult perfectly well and chooses to answer it as an invitation.
The Pilgrim's short sermon on reading faces is the moral centre of the chapter, and the novel plants it here, more than sixteen hundred characters before Zhu Ganglie appears. A monkey with a thunder-god's face tells an old man whose entire grievance against his son-in-law is that the creature has a snout: 若專以相貌取人，乾淨錯了 — judge a man by his face alone and you go clean wrong. The novel is teaching the reader how to read the second half of the chapter before the second half begins.
And yet the lesson is not a simple one. Sun Wukong preaches against judging by appearances and then behaves exactly as his appearance would lead you to expect: ties the horse in the reception hall, hauls the good chairs about, sits down uninvited. 家懷, the old man's word, means at ease as in your own house — and the Pilgrim promptly promises to be more so. The novel's sympathy is with him, but it does not pretend he is easy to have about the place.