師徒問答 Master and Disciples
那師父正按轡徐觀,又見悟空兄弟方到。悟淨道:「師父不曾跌下馬來麼?」長老罵道:「悟空這潑猴,他把馬兒驚了,早是我還騎得住哩。」行者陪笑道:「師父莫罵我,都是豬八戒說馬行遲,故此著他快些。」那獃子因趕馬,走急了些兒,喘氣噓噓,口裡唧唧噥噥的鬧道:「罷了,罷了,見自肚,別腰鬆。擔子沉重,挑不上來,又弄我奔奔波波的趕馬。」長老道:「徒弟啊,你且看那壁廂有一座莊院,我們卻好借宿去也。」行者聞言,急擡頭舉目而看,果見那半空中慶雲籠罩,瑞靄遮盈,情知定是佛仙點化,他卻不敢泄漏天機,只道:「好好好,我們借宿去來。」那师父正按辔徐观,又见悟空兄弟方到。悟净道:「师父不曾跌下马来么?」长老骂道:「悟空这泼猴,他把马儿惊了,早是我还骑得住哩。」行者陪笑道:「师父莫骂我,都是猪八戒说马行迟,故此着他快些。」那呆子因赶马,走急了些儿,喘气嘘嘘,口里唧唧哝哝的闹道:「罢了,罢了,见自肚,别腰松。担子沉重,挑不上来,又弄我奔奔波波的赶马。」长老道:「徒弟啊,你且看那壁厢有一座庄院,我们却好借宿去也。」行者闻言,急抬头举目而看,果见那半空中庆云笼罩,瑞霭遮盈,情知定是佛仙点化,他却不敢泄漏天机,只道:「好好好,我们借宿去来。」
逐句解 Line by line
The Master, just then reining in to gaze about him at leisure, saw that Wukong and his brothers had only now caught up.
按轡徐觀, holding the reins and looking about at leisure — Tripitaka has recovered his composure faster than his dignity. 轡 (pèi) is the bridle-reins; 方到, had only just arrived.
Wujing said, "Master — you weren't thrown from the horse, were you?"
Sha Monk asks the tactful version of the question. 不曾, did not, keeps 不 as bù before the rising tone of 曾; 跌下馬來 is to come off a horse.
The elder scolded: "That wretch of an ape, Wukong — he spooked the horse! It was lucky I could still keep my seat."
長老 is the elder — 長 read zhǎng, senior, not cháng, long. 潑猴, unruly ape, is Tripitaka's favourite name for Wukong when annoyed, which is often. 還騎得住 — 還 (hái) still, with the light de, means managed to stay on. 早是 is luckily, as it turned out.
Pilgrim, with an ingratiating smile, said, "Don't scold me, Master — it was all Zhu Bajie, saying the horse went too slow, so I had him quicken his pace."
陪笑 is the placating smile of someone shifting the blame. 馬行遲 takes 行 as the verb xíng, the horse goes slowly. Then 故此著他快些: 著 is zhuó, the verb meaning to have or make somebody do something — the first time in this chapter it carries that sense, and it will return when the widow starts assigning husbands. 都 is dōu, entirely — the whole thing was Bajie's fault, obviously.
The blockhead, from chasing the horse, had hurried a touch too hard; wheezing and puffing, he grumbled and muttered under his breath: "That's torn it, that's torn it — look, my belly hangs slack and my girdle's come loose."
獃子 (dāi zi), the dolt, is what the narrator calls Bajie when he is not calling him worse. 走急了些兒, hurried a bit too hard; 唧唧噥噥 is the sound of muttering under the breath; 罷了 here is that's done it, that's finished. The clipped 見自肚, 別腰鬆 is a breathless, garbled complaint about a sagging paunch and a belt gone loose — how exactly to parse it is not certain, and probably was not meant to be.
"The load is heavy, I can't shoulder it up, and now you've set me racing back and forth after the horse besides!"
擔子 (dàn zi) is the load, with 擔 as the noun dàn against the verb dān, to carry. 沉重 takes zhòng, heavy; 挑不上來, cannot get it up onto the shoulder, with 不 as bú before 上; 奔奔波波 is being run ragged back and forth.
The elder said, "Disciples — just look, over yonder there's a farmstead. We might well go and beg a night's lodging there."
那壁廂 (nà bì xiāng) is over that way, yonder. 一座莊院 is a manor or farmstead; 借宿 is to beg a night's lodging; 卻好 is how convenient, as it happens. It is very convenient indeed.
Pilgrim, hearing this, quickly lifted his head and looked: sure enough, high in the air auspicious clouds hung and gathered, propitious vapors veiled the sky. He knew at once it must be a conjuration of buddhas and immortals; yet, not daring to divulge the secret of Heaven, he only said, "Good, good, good — let's go and lodge there."
Wukong looks up and sees what nobody else does. 慶雲 (qìng yún) and 瑞靄 (ruì ǎi), auspicious cloud and propitious haze, are the standard tell that a divine being is nearby. 佛仙點化 — 佛 is fó — means a conjuring-up by buddhas and immortals. 半空中 takes 中 as zhōng. And 泄漏天機 is to leak the secret workings of Heaven, which he decides not to do. That decision is the hinge the whole chapter turns on.
Ensemble comedy, each pilgrim in his own register: Wujing's careful question, Tripitaka's flustered scolding, Wukong's oily transfer of blame onto Bajie, and Bajie himself wheezing about his belly and his burden. The novel rarely passes up a chance to stage these four as a bickering family, and a bolted horse has furnished a good one.
Underneath, the passage is doing structural work. Tripitaka spotting the farmstead is what brings the pilgrims to the gate, and Bajie's complaint — load too heavy, errands too many — is the discontent that the widow's offer of ease will shortly find and use. His grievances here are the seedbed of the temptation.
The turn is Wukong's. Alone of the four he reads the auspicious clouds correctly, and then, crucially, says nothing: 不敢泄漏天機, not daring to divulge the secret of Heaven. His silence lets the test run unspoiled. It also marks the gap between the disciple who sees what is happening and the disciples who only want things.