Bajie said with a laugh: 'You under-thrashed rascal, never mind your talk of tamping cabbage —

少打的潑物 ('a rascal who's had too few beatings') and 築菜 ('tamping cabbage-beds'; 甚 shén) — Bajie throws the staff's parting sneer straight back at the demon.

'I'm only afraid that one swipe would leave you nowhere to stick a plaster,

沒處貼膏藥 ('no place to apply a medicine-plaster,' i.e. wounded past patching; 教 jiào, causative) — Bajie's grim comic threat for his rake.

'with all nine holes running blood at once. And even if it didn't kill you, you'd have lockjaw to the end of your days.'

九個眼子 ('nine holes,' the nine wounds of the rake's teeth; 子 zi) and 破傷風 ('tetanus, lockjaw') — the boast is anatomically specific, in Bajie's coarse vein.

The monster threw open his guard and, down beneath the water, fought Bajie up once more to the surface.

丟開架手 ('let go his blocking guard'; 那 nà twice). The duel again rises from the depths to break the water's face, as before.

This bout was indeed more furious than the last — behold:

比前果更不同 ('truly even more unlike the last'; 更 gèng) and the tag 你看他 ('behold') introduce the chapter's third and last battle-rhapsody.

The precious staff whirls, the nailed rake tamps; their speech not shared, they are no kin.

言語不通非眷屬 ('their speech not mutual, they are no kin'; 鈀 pá) frames the fight as one between strangers of different natures — a line the alchemical couplet to come will deepen.

It is only because the Wood-Mother overcomes the knife-and-spatula that the two are brought to clash and grapple.

Inner-alchemy again: 木母 ('the Wood-Mother,' mercury, standing for Bajie) 剋 ('overcomes,' in the cycle of the five agents) 刀圭 ('the knife-and-spatula,' a figure for the elixir's measured agent). 相 xiāng. The brawl is cast as a collision of alchemical principles.

No winning or losing, no give and take; churning the waves, they are all discord.

沒輸贏，無反覆 ('no victory or defeat, no turning back') and 不和睦 ('at odds') restate the deadlock that has held through every exchange.

This one, in his wrath, how could he forbear? That one, cut to the heart, could scarce brook the shame.

怒氣怎含容 ('how could his wrath be contained') against 傷心難忍辱 ('heartsick, he could hardly bear the disgrace'; 那 nà, 難 nán) — the antithesis weighs the two fighters' fury.

Rake comes, staff parries — each plays the hero; the water boils the Flowing Sands, fierce and venomous.

水滾流沙 ('the water boils the Flowing Sands'; 鈀 pá) turns the river itself into part of the combat, seething with the fighters' violence.

Spirits high, toiling hard — all because Sanzang journeys toward the Western Regions.

多因三藏朝西域 ('all because Sanzang goes toward the Western Regions'; 藏 zàng, 朝 cháo) again anchors the cosmic din in the plain fact of the pilgrimage, as the second rhapsody's 只為取經人 did.

The nailed rake is mighty fierce; the precious staff is thoroughly skilled.

釘鈀老大兇 ('the nailed rake is greatly fierce'; 鈀 pá) and 寶杖十分熟 ('the precious staff is fully practised') — a terse, balanced weighing of the two weapons.

This one grips to haul him up onto the bank; that one claws to drag him and douse him in the water.

要往岸上拖 ('means to haul him onto the bank') against 就將水裡沃 ('takes and douses him in the water'; 那 nà, 將 jiāng, disposal) — the whole struggle in one couplet: land against water, the chapter's very stalemate.

The din, like a thunder-clap, stirs the fish and dragons; clouds darken, the sky dims, gods and ghosts cower.

聲如霹靂 ('a sound like thunder') and 雲暗天昏神鬼伏 ('clouds dark, sky dim, gods and ghosts cowering') close the rhapsody, like its fellows, on an image of the world unsettled.