三女參拜 The Daughters Emerge
少時間，見獃子拉將馬來拴下。長老道：「你馬放了？」八戒道：「無甚好草，沒處放馬。」行者道：「沒處放馬，可有處牽馬麼？」獃子聞得此言，情知走了消息，也就垂頭扭頸，努嘴皺眉，半晌不言。又聽得呀的一聲，腰門開了，有兩對紅燈、一副提爐，香雲靄靄，環珮叮叮，那婦人帶著三個女兒，走將出來，叫真真、愛愛、憐憐，拜見那取經的人物。那女子排立廳中，朝上禮拜。果然也生得標致，但見他：少时间，见呆子拉将马来拴下。长老道：「你马放了？」八戒道：「无甚好草，没处放马。」行者道：「没处放马，可有处牵马么？」呆子闻得此言，情知走了消息，也就垂头扭颈，努嘴皱眉，半晌不言。又听得呀的一声，腰门开了，有两对红灯、一副提炉，香云霭霭，环珮叮叮，那妇人带着三个女儿，走将出来，叫真真、爱爱、怜怜，拜见那取经的人物。那女子排立厅中，朝上礼拜。果然也生得标致，但见他：
逐句解 Line by line
In a little while, they saw the blockhead lead the horse up and tie it.
拉將馬來, led the horse over, with 將 as a verb-tail (jiāng); 拴下, tethered it. 獃子 takes 子 as the light suffix zi.
The elder said, "Have you grazed the horse?"
放了, did you graze it? Tripitaka has just been told the truth and asks anyway. Whether that is guile or simple habit, the effect is to hold the door open for a lie.
Bajie said, "There was no good grass, no place to graze the horse."
無甚好草, no decent grass, with 甚 as shén, any. He walks straight through it.
Pilgrim said, "No place to graze the horse — but was there a place to lead it?"
And here is the sharpest line in the chapter. 放馬 is to graze a horse; 牽馬 is to lead one. Wukong swaps one verb for the other and says nothing else — no place to graze the horse, but a place to lead it? It is a complete accusation, delivered as an idle question, and Bajie understands it instantly.
The blockhead, hearing these words, knew the secret was out, and hung his head, twisted his neck, thrust out his snout and knit his brows, saying nothing for a good while.
聞得 takes the light de; 獃子 the light suffix zi. 走了消息 is the news has got out — literally, the news walked. 努嘴皺眉, snout thrust out and brows knitted: the physical vocabulary of a man caught, rendered in four characters.
Then, at a creaking sound, the side-door opened: with two pairs of red lanterns and a hand-censer borne before them, clouds of incense wreathing, girdle-pendants tinkling, the woman came out leading her three daughters — Zhenzhen, Aiai, and Lianlian by name — to make their bows before the scripture-seekers.
A full theatrical entrance. 提爐 is a censer carried by its handle; 環珮叮叮 is the chiming of the jade pendants hung at a woman's waist, which were worn partly so that a well-bred walk could be heard coming. 聽得 takes the light de; 帶著 the running 著 (zhe); 走將出來 uses 將 as a verb-tail (jiāng); 拜見, to make obeisance, reads 見 as jiàn. Lanterns, incense and music, all cued the moment Bajie is at his most exposed.
The young women ranged themselves in the hall and, facing forward, made their reverence.
女子 takes 子 as the full noun zǐ. 排立廳中, standing in a row in the hall, with 中 as zhōng; 朝上, facing forward, reads 朝 as cháo, to face.
They were indeed born comely; behold them:
生得標致, born good-looking, with the light de. 但見他, and this is what one saw — the tag handing the description over to the 詞 that follows. The same formula that introduced the widow's costume, and the same trick: we are about to be made to look.
Bajie's homecoming and his exposure happen in the same breath. He brings back an ungrazed horse, is asked whether he grazed it, and lies — and Wukong pricks the lie with a single substituted verb: no place to graze the horse, but a place to lead it? Caught, Bajie can only hang his head and pout, saying nothing, his guilt legible in every twist of his neck.
Into that sheepish silence walks a piece of stagecraft. The side-door opens on a small procession — red lanterns, a hand-censer, incense in clouds, girdle-jades chiming — as the widow brings out her three daughters, named at last, to bow before the pilgrims. Light, scent and sound, all of it calculated, and all of it aimed at the one man in the room whose resolve has already gone.
The narrator's tag hands the reader over to the descriptive verse that follows. Until now the daughters have been only names and ages in a sales pitch; they are about to be rendered as ravishing beauties. And the reader, unlike the pilgrims, already knows the portrait is bait and knows exactly whom it is meant to catch.