八戒數擔 Bajie Counts the Load
八戒道：「哥哥，你看這擔行李多重？」行者道：「兄弟，自從有了你與沙僧，我又不曾挑著，那知多重？」八戒道：「哥啊，你看看數兒麼：八戒道：「哥哥，你看这担行李多重？」行者道：「兄弟，自从有了你与沙僧，我又不曾挑着，那知多重？」八戒道：「哥啊，你看看数儿么：
似這般許多行李，難為老豬一個逐日家擔著走，偏你跟師父做徒弟，拿我做長工。」似这般许多行李，难为老猪一个逐日家担着走，偏你跟师父做徒弟，拿我做长工。」
逐句解 Line by line
Zhu Bajie said, "Brother, just see how heavy this load of baggage is!"
Here 擔 is the noun, dàn, a shoulder-load; 行李 takes xíng; and 多重, how heavy, reads 重 as zhòng. Bajie has been waiting all day to ask this question.
Pilgrim said, "Brother, ever since you and Sha came along, I have not once carried it — how should I know its weight?"
挑著 again with the running 著 (zhe), and 那知, how would I know, with the rhetorical 那 (nǎ). Wukong's answer is perfectly true and entirely unhelpful.
Zhu Bajie said, "Brother, just tally it up, will you:
看看數兒, take a look at the count. The colon opens an inventory, and the joke of the next four lines is that Bajie recites it as poetry. His speech does not stop for the verse; the quotation mark opened here stays open right through it.
Four strips of yellow rattan-splint; eight ropes, of differing length;
蔑 is standing in for 篾, thin split bamboo or rattan. 長短, long-and-short, means of assorted lengths, with 長 as cháng.
and, to guard against the drizzling rain, a felt wrapper of three or four plies;
防陰雨 is to keep the wet out; 氈包 is a felt wrapper, folded over on itself several times.
the flat carrying-pole, forever apt to slip, has nails driven in at either end;
匾擔 (for 扁擔) is the flat shoulder-pole, 擔 the noun dàn; 還 here is hái, moreover. Nails at both ends stop the load sliding off — a detail no one invents who has not carried one.
a nine-ringed staff, copper-inlaid and iron-forged; and a great rain-cape, bound round with bamboo-thread and rattan.
The list ends on its two grandest items, and the lines stretch from five characters to seven to make room for them. The 九環杖 is the ringed pilgrim staff, the 錫杖 or khakkhara, with 環 read huán; 斗篷, the rain-cape, takes 斗 as dǒu.
With so much baggage as this, it is hard on old Pig to shoulder it alone, day after day — while you get to be the master's disciple, and make me your hired hand!"
似這般, in this fashion, with 似 (sì); 難為 is to impose on somebody. Watch 擔 flip word class in the same breath: 擔著走, to carry it along, is the verb dān, with the running 著 (zhe). And 長工, a hired hand taken on by the year, reads 長 as cháng. The grievance under the joke is a real one about who does the work.
Bajie's grumble swells into a mock-heroic catalogue. The descriptive list is a form the novel normally saves for palaces, battle-lines, or the beauty of goddesses, and here it is turned loose on a heap of travel gear. That mismatch is the joke. A man who has supposedly given up possessions recites his luggage lovingly, item by aggrieved item.
It is also the one place in the book where you can see what the pilgrims actually carry: rattan splints and coils of rope, a felt wrapper several layers thick against the rain, a flat shoulder-pole with nails knocked into the ends, the copper-and-iron ringed staff, and a big rattan-bound rain-cape. Note how the speech is framed — the quotation opens in Bajie's prose, the inventory arrives as verse, and the speech runs straight on past it to close only after his last complaint.
The character 擔 earns its keep twice over. As a noun it is dàn — 這擔 the load, 匾擔 the pole — and as a verb it is dān, 擔著走, to carry it along. Under the comedy sits a real grievance about the division of labour: one brother is a disciple, the other feels like a 長工, a hired man. That resentment is the crack the coming test will work its way into.