好殺 A Fine Slaughter
果然點起五十名精壯小妖,擂鼓搖旗,纏兩口赤銅刀,騰出門來,厲聲高叫道:「你是那裡來的個猴和尚,敢在此間大呼小叫的做甚?」行者罵道:「你這個剝皮的畜生!你弄甚麼脫殼法兒,把我師父攝了,倒轉問我做甚。趁早好好送我師父出來,還饒你這個性命。」虎怪道:「你師父是我拿了,要與我大王做頓下飯。你識起倒,回去罷;不然,拿住你,一齊湊吃,卻不是買一個又饒一個?」行者聞言,心中大怒,扢迸迸鋼牙錯嚙,滴流流火眼睜圓,掣鐵棒喝道:「你多大手段,敢說這等大話?休走,看棍。」那先鋒急持刀接住。這一場果然不善,他兩個各顯威能,好殺:果然点起五十名精壮小妖,擂鼓摇旗,缠两口赤铜刀,腾出门来,厉声高叫道:「你是那里来的个猴和尚,敢在此间大呼小叫的做甚?」行者骂道:「你这个剥皮的畜生!你弄甚么脱壳法儿,把我师父摄了,倒转问我做甚。趁早好好送我师父出来,还饶你这个性命。」虎怪道:「你师父是我拿了,要与我大王做顿下饭。你识起倒,回去罢;不然,拿住你,一齐凑吃,却不是买一个又饶一个?」行者闻言,心中大怒,扢迸迸钢牙错啮,滴流流火眼睁圆,掣铁棒喝道:「你多大手段,敢说这等大话?休走,看棍。」那先锋急持刀接住。这一场果然不善,他两个各显威能,好杀:
逐句解 Line by line
So he mustered fifty stout little fiends, beat the drums and shook out the flags, girt on his two red-copper sabres, came leaping out of the gate, and shouted in a savage voice,
擂鼓搖旗, 纏兩口赤銅刀 — drums, flags, and the same two soft-metal sabres. The Vanguard goes out with a parade.
"What monkey monk are you, and where do you come from, that you dare stand hallooing and bawling in this place? What is your business?"
那裡來的 is the interrogative nǎ; 做甚 is likewise interrogative, shén, not the intensifier shèn. Both readings of the graph occur within this passage.
The Pilgrim cursed him. "You skin-shedding beast!
剝皮的畜生: 剝 is bāo and 畜 is chù; the suffix 生 takes the neutral tone. "Skin-peeling beast" is exact rather than abusive.
What was that shell-sloughing trick of yours, that you carried off my master, and now turn round and ask me my business?
脫殼法兒 takes 殼 as qiào and the suffix 兒 as er. 倒轉問我做甚: 倒 is dào, the adverb of contrariety, against the dǎo of 識起倒 in the fiend's reply two segments on.
Send my master out at once and fairly, and I will yet spare you that life of yours."
還饒你這個性命 — the Pilgrim offers terms, as Bajie did before the first fight. Both offers are refused, and both fiends die.
The Tiger fiend said, "Your master is taken, and I took him, and he shall make a dish to go with my Great King's rice.
做頓下飯, "to make one meal's worth of something to eat with rice." 下飯 is the dish that accompanies the grain, and the Tang Monk has now been called a 案酒, a 饌, a 餐, and a 下飯.
Know when to stand and when to fall, and go home. Otherwise you shall be taken too, and eaten along with him — and shall I not have bought one and been given another free?"
識起倒 is a Yuan-Ming idiom, "to know when to rise and when to go down," hence to know one's place; 倒 reads dǎo. 買一個又饒一個, buy one and get one thrown in — the Vanguard's wit is a shopkeeper's.
At these words the Pilgrim's heart swelled with rage. His steel teeth ground and clashed; his fiery eyes rolled wide and round;
扢迸迸鋼牙錯嚙,滴流流火眼睜圓: two reduplicated onomatopoeic binomes, of grinding and of rolling. This is the point in the chapter at which the Great Sage stops being amusing.
he drew out the iron rod and roared, "How great are these arts of yours, that you dare talk so large?
這等大話, "talk of this size." He is angry because the fiend has said aloud what the fiend intends, and because it involves eating him.
Do not run. Look to my staff!" And the Vanguard hastily raised his sabres to meet it.
看棍, "look to the staff," is the formal warning that precedes a blow in the vernacular novel. 急持刀接住 — the Vanguard has just enough time to raise both sabres.
Now this was no gentle bout. Each of them showed his power to the full. A fine slaughter:
好殺: is a verse lead-in and stays with the prose segment, as 但見那: and 果然那: do. 果然不善, "truly not a mild affair."
That fiend was no more than a goose's egg; Wukong was a goose-egg stone.
The poem opens on a pun that will not translate. 鵝卵 is a goose's egg; 鵝卵石, "goose-egg stone," is an ordinary cobble. The fiend is the egg; the monkey is the stone shaped like one; and the reader is told the outcome in the first couplet.
Copper sabres barred the Handsome Monkey King, as one might pile up eggs and pitch them at a rock.
壘卵來擊石 — to stack eggs and throw them at a rock, a proverbial figure for futile force (compare 以卵擊石). The metaphor of the first couplet is here made into an action.
How should crow and magpie contend against the phoenix? How should the pigeon dare face hawk and falcon?
鵓鴿, the wood-pigeon; 鷹鷂, hawk and sparrowhawk. Two rhetorical questions, and the battle-poem has still not described a blow.
The fiend blew wind, and ash filled all the hills; Wukong spat mist, and cloud bewildered the sun.
The first line of real combat, and it is the only couplet in which the two are equal. 噴風 is the fiend's single art, and the wind is his king's.
He could not stand three or five exchanges: the Vanguard's waist went soft, and all his strength was gone.
來往不禁三五回: 禁 is jīn, "to endure," per the ruling of ch. 19; the mechanical 不 before it is therefore bù. 腰軟, the waist gone soft — the standard sign in this novel that a fighter is finished.
He turned to fly and save his life; but Wukong pressed him to the death.
抵死逼, to press to the death. The poem, which began with a joke about eggs, ends with the word 死.
The Tiger Vanguard comes out with drums, flags, fifty troopers and a joke about buying one and getting one free. Sun Wukong grinds his teeth. The exchange between them is entirely commercial in its vocabulary — 下飯, 湊吃, 買一個又饒一個 — and the demon's last piece of wit is a shopkeeper's. Then the poem begins, and the poem has no interest in the fight.
Six couplets, and four of them are metaphors of futility: a goose's egg against a cobble, eggs piled up and flung at a rock, a magpie against the phoenix, a pigeon against the hawk. Only the fourth couplet lets the Vanguard do anything at all, and what he does is blow wind, which is his master's art and not his own. By the fifth he cannot last five passes; by the sixth he is running. The chapter has given the pig a hard fight and the Great Sage a slaughter, and it names the second 好殺, a fine killing.