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,我又不曾挑著,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著走,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/measure dàn (a carrying-load), 行李 reads xíng (“luggage”), and 多重 (“how heavy”) takes 重 as zhòng.
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 takes the durative 著 (zhe); 那知 (“how would I know”) is the rhetorical 那 (nǎ).
Zhu Bajie said, “Brother, just tally it up, will you:
看看數兒 = “take a look at the count.” The colon opens the recited inventory that follows — Bajie's speech continues straight through the verse.
Four strips of yellow rattan-splint; eight ropes, of differing length;
蔑 is here a loan-graph for 篾 (thin bamboo or rattan splint). 長短 (“long-and-short,” i.e. of various lengths) takes 長 as cháng.
and, to guard against the drizzling rain, a felt wrapper of three or four plies;
防陰雨 = to ward off wet weather; 氈包 = a felt bundle wrapped in several layers.
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, still”).
a nine-ringed staff, copper-inlaid and iron-forged; and a great rain-cape, bound round with bamboo-thread and rattan.
The 九環杖 is the ringed pilgrim-staff (the 錫杖, khakkhara), 環 read huán; 斗篷 (rain-cape) takes 斗 as dǒu. The couplet's lines swell to nine characters, closing the list with its two grandest items.
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 = “like this” (似 (sì)); 難為 = to put upon, impose on (為 (wéi)). Here 擔 turns verbal — 擔著走, “to carry it along,” 擔 read dān with durative 著 (zhe); 長工 (a long-term hired labourer) takes 長 as cháng.
Bajie's grievance swells into a mock-heroic catalogue. The descriptive 賦-list — the form the novel normally reserves for palaces, battle-arrays, or the beauty of goddesses — is here turned upon a heap of ordinary travel-gear, and the bathos is the joke. The pilgrim who ought to renounce possessions instead recites his baggage lovingly, item by aggrieved item.
The inventory is also a rare, concrete glimpse of the pilgrims' material kit: rattan splints and coils of rope, a many-plied felt wrapper against the rain, a flat shoulder-pole nailed at the ends, the copper-and-iron 九環杖 (Sanzang's emblematic ringed staff), and a great rattan-bound rain-cape. Note the spoken-verse framing: the 「 opens in Bajie's prose lead-in, the list is set as verse, and the speech runs on past it to close with the 」 only after his final complaint.
The graph 擔 does double service and rewards attention: as a noun it is dàn (這擔, 匾擔, the load and the pole), but as a verb dān (擔著走, to carry). Beneath the comedy lies Bajie's real complaint — the injustice of the division of labour, disciple versus 長工 — a resentment the coming test will exploit.