老者擺手搖頭 The Old Man Waves His Hand and Shakes His Head
那獃子縱身跳起，口裡絮絮叨叨的，挑著擔子，只得死心塌地，跟著前來。早到了路傍人家門首。三藏下馬，行者接了韁繩，八戒歇了行李，都佇立綠蔭之下。三藏拄著九環錫杖，按按藤纏篾織斗篷，先奔門前。只見一老者，斜倚竹床之上口裡嚶嚶的念佛。三藏不敢高言，慢慢的叫一聲：「施主，問訊了。」那老者一骨魯跳將起來，忙斂衣襟，出門還禮道：「長老，失迎。你自那方來的？到我寒門何故？」三藏道：「貧僧是東土大唐和尚，奉聖旨，上雷音寺拜佛求經。適至寶方天晚，意投檀府告借一宵，萬祈方便方便。」那老兒擺手搖頭道：「去不得，西天難取經。要取經，往東天去罷。」三藏口中不語，意下沉吟：「菩薩指道西去，怎麼此老說往東行？東邊那得有經？」靦腆難言，半晌不答。那呆子纵身跳起，口里絮絮叨叨的，挑著担子，只得死心塌地，跟著前来。早到了路傍人家门首。三藏下马，行者接了缰绳，八戒歇了行李，都伫立绿荫之下。三藏拄著九环锡杖，按按藤缠篾织斗篷，先奔门前。只见一老者，斜倚竹床之上口里嘤嘤的念佛。三藏不敢高言，慢慢的叫一声：「施主，问讯了。」那老者一骨鲁跳将起来，忙敛衣襟，出门还礼道：「长老，失迎。你自那方来的？到我寒门何故？」三藏道：「贫僧是东土大唐和尚，奉圣旨，上雷音寺拜佛求经。适至宝方天晚，意投檀府告借一宵，万祈方便方便。」那老儿摆手摇头道：「去不得，西天难取经。要取经，往东天去罢。」三藏口中不语，意下沉吟：「菩萨指道西去，怎么此老说往东行？东边那得有经？」腼腆难言，半晌不答。
逐句解 Line by line
The Idiot sprang up with a bound and, muttering and mumbling to himself, shouldered the carrying-pole, hardened his heart to it, and came along after.
Three readings of 著 would be possible here and only one is right in each case: 挑著擔子 and 跟著前來 both take zhe, the continuous state carried forward into a second verb. 擔子 is the noun, dàn. 只得, "having no choice but," takes dé. 死心塌地 — heart dead, feet flat on the ground — is the idiom of a resignation that will not be revoked.
Soon they were at the gate of the house beside the road. Sanzang dismounted; the Pilgrim took the bridle-rein and Bajie set down the luggage, and all of them stood beneath the green shade.
路傍 once more writes 旁. The three verbs of the sentence distribute the labor exactly as the party's hierarchy requires: the monk dismounts, the Pilgrim takes the rein, and Bajie puts down the load he has just been complaining of.
Sanzang, leaning on his nine-ringed priestly staff, settled the rattan-bound, bamboo-plaited rain-hat upon his head, and went first to the door.
九環錫杖 is the nine-ringed khakkhara, one of Guanyin's two gifts at ch. 12. 拄著 takes 著 as zhe. 藤纏篾織斗篷, a broad rain-hat of split bamboo bound about with rattan; 斗 is dǒu. 按按, a reduplicated verb: he pats it into place.
There he saw an old man reclining aslant on a bamboo couch, murmuring the Buddha's name under his breath.
嚶嚶, a soft twittering sound, used here of muttered recitation. The old man is a lay devotee, which makes his coming refusal of hospitality the more pointed — and his later account of the local demon the more credible.
Sanzang durst not raise his voice. Softly he called, "Benefactor, I give you greeting."
問訊 is the technical term for a monk's greeting, palms joined; 問訊了 takes the perfective le. 不敢高言 is exactly observed: the Tang Monk is at his best in this scene and at his worst two paragraphs later.
The old man scrambled up all in a heap, hastily drew his robe together, came out and returned the salutation. "Elder, forgive me that I did not meet you.
一骨魯 (also written 一骨碌) is onomatopoeic for a sudden scrambling motion; per the ruling of ch. 16 such writings keep their default readings, gǔ lǔ. 跳將起來 takes the directional 將 as jiāng. 還禮, to return a courtesy, is huán.
From what quarter have you come? And what brings you to my poor door?"
你自那方來的 — interrogative 那, read nǎ, "from what quarter," not the demonstrative. The graph 那 occurs sixteen times in this batch and twice only in this sense.
Sanzang said, "This poor monk is a priest of the Great Tang in the Land of the East. By imperial command I go to the Temple of Thunderclap, to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures.
The formula of self-introduction that the Tang Monk will repeat, with slight variation, some fifty times before the journey ends. 奉聖旨 names the imperial commission; 雷音寺 is Vulture Peak.
Coming to your honored district with the day far gone, I would throw myself upon your charitable house and beg one night's lodging. Of your kindness, oblige me."
寶方 and 檀府 are the polite forms — your precious district, your almsgiving house — 檀 being short for 檀越, dānapati, a donor. The doubled 方便方便 is vernacular pleading.
The old fellow waved his hand and shook his head. "You cannot go. There are no scriptures to be had in the Western Heaven. If scriptures you must have, go east for them."
The old man's refusal is not what the reader expects: not "there is no room" but "there is nothing at the far end of your road." 去不得 is the negative potential, dé. 要取經，往東天去罷 is either a countryman's joke, a warning about the ridge ahead, or — as the chapter's Chan frame invites — the plainest doctrinal statement in the episode: what the monk seeks he has already been given, and it lies behind him.
Sanzang said nothing aloud, but pondered within: "The Bodhisattva pointed me west. How comes this old man to tell me to go east?
口中不語，意下沉吟: the novel's standard formula for interior speech. The monk's reasoning is entirely literal, and he does not for a moment consider that 東 might mean anything but a compass point.
Where in the east should there be scriptures?" Abashed, he could not bring himself to speak, and for a good while made no answer.
那得有經 — interrogative again, nǎ dé, "how should there be." 靦腆難言, "abashed and unable to speak": 難 is nán. Into this awkward silence, in the next paragraph, the Pilgrim steps.
A scene of almost documentary quietness: a bamboo couch, a rain-hat patted into shape, an old man saying his beads in the shade. The Tang Monk conducts himself impeccably — he lowers his voice, he uses the correct greeting, he calls the house a 檀府 — and receives an answer that stops him dead. 去不得，西天難取經。要取經，往東天去罷。
The line is doing more than one thing. On the surface it prepares the reader for Yellow Wind Ridge, whose reputation has evidently reached this farmstead. But placed eleven couplets after 既然皆己心，何用別人說, the old man's advice to go east reads as the chapter's second statement of the same doctrine, delivered this time by a man in a bamboo chair rather than by the narrator in verse. The monk hears only geography. He is 靦腆難言 — embarrassed, wordless — and it does not occur to him that he has been answered.