第二十三回 · 拂袖關門 The Door Slammed — Journey to the West

原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

拂袖關門 The Door Slammed

那nà婦fù人rén見jiàn他tā們men推tuī辭cí不bù肯kěn，急jí抽chōu身shēn轉zhuǎn進jìn屏píng風fēng，撲pū的de把bǎ腰yāo門mén關guān上shàng。師shī徒tú們men撇piē在zài外wài面miàn，茶chá飯fàn全quán無wú，再zài沒méi人rén出chū。八bā戒jiè心xīn中zhōng焦jiāo燥zào，埋mán怨yuàn唐táng僧sēng道dào：「師shī父fù忒tè不bú會huì幹gàn事shì，把bǎ話huà通tōng說shuō殺shā了le。你nǐ好hǎo道dào還hái活huó著zhe些xiē腳jiǎo兒ér，只zhǐ含hán糊hú答dá應yīng，哄hǒng他tā些xiē齋zhāi飯fàn吃chī了le，今jīn晚wǎn落luò得de一yì宵xiāo快kuài活huó。明míng日rì肯kěn與yǔ不bù肯kěn，在zài乎hū你nǐ我wǒ了le。似sì這zhè般bān關guān門mén不bù出chū，我wǒ們men這zhè清qīng灰huī冷lěng灶zào，一yí夜yè怎zěn過guò？」那nà妇fù人rén见jiàn他tā们men推tuī辞cí不bù肯kěn，急jí抽chōu身shēn转zhuǎn进jìn屏píng风fēng，扑pū的de把bǎ腰yāo门mén关guān上shàng。师shī徒tú们men撇piē在zài外wài面miàn，茶chá饭fàn全quán无wú，再zài没méi人rén出chū。八bā戒jiè心xīn中zhōng焦jiāo燥zào，埋mán怨yuàn唐táng僧sēng道dào：「师shī父fù忒tè不bú会huì干gàn事shì，把bǎ话huà通tōng说shuō杀shā了le。你nǐ好hǎo道dào还hái活huó著zhe些xiē脚jiǎo儿ér，只zhǐ含hán糊hú答dá应yīng，哄hǒng他tā些xiē斋zhāi饭fàn吃chī了le，今jīn晚wǎn落luò得de一yì宵xiāo快kuài活huó。明míng日rì肯kěn与yǔ不bù肯kěn，在zài乎hū你nǐ我wǒ了le。似sì这zhè般bān关guān门mén不bù出chū，我wǒ们men这zhè清qīng灰huī冷lěng灶zào，一yí夜yè怎zěn过guò？」

逐句解 Line by line

那nà婦fù人rén見jiàn他tā們men推tuī辭cí不bù肯kěn，急jí抽chōu身shēn轉zhuǎn進jìn屏píng風fēng，撲pū的de把bǎ腰yāo門mén關guān上shàng。那nà妇fù人rén见jiàn他tā们men推tuī辞cí不bù肯kěn，急jí抽chōu身shēn转zhuǎn进jìn屏píng风fēng，扑pū的de把bǎ腰yāo门mén关guān上shàng。

The woman, seeing them decline and refuse, sharply drew back, turned in behind the screen, and with a bang shut the side-door.

那婦人 nà. 推辭不肯 “to decline and be unwilling.” 抽身轉進 “to withdraw and turn inside.” 撲的 the onomatope of a slam; 腰門 a small inner side-door; 關上 “to shut (it),” 上 the resultative complement.

師shī徒tú們men撇piē在zài外wài面miàn，茶chá飯fàn全quán無wú，再zài沒méi人rén出chū。师shī徒tú们men撇piē在zài外wài面miàn，茶chá饭fàn全quán无wú，再zài没méi人rén出chū。

Master and disciples were left cast out in front, with neither tea nor food, and no one came out again.

撇在外面 “left flung outside.” 茶飯全無 “no tea nor rice at all.” The abrupt withdrawal of hospitality is the widow's retaliation — and the next turn of the screw on Bajie.

八bā戒jiè心xīn中zhōng焦jiāo燥zào，埋mán怨yuàn唐táng僧sēng道dào：「師shī父fù忒tè不bú會huì幹gàn事shì，把bǎ話huà通tōng說shuō殺shā了le。八bā戒jiè心xīn中zhōng焦jiāo燥zào，埋mán怨yuàn唐táng僧sēng道dào：「师shī父fù忒tè不bú会huì干gàn事shì，把bǎ话huà通tōng说shuō杀shā了le。

Bajie, fretting in his heart, grumbled at the Tang Monk: “Master, you're far too clumsy at handling things — you've said it all clean dead.”

心中焦燥 “anxious and fretful within,” 心中 shēn zhōng. 埋怨 “to complain, blame.” 忒不會幹事 “much too inept at managing affairs”; 說殺了 “to have talked (it) to death,” i.e. left no opening.

你nǐ好hǎo道dào還hái活huó著zhe些xiē腳jiǎo兒ér，只zhǐ含hán糊hú答dá應yīng，哄hǒng他tā些xiē齋zhāi飯fàn吃chī了le，今jīn晚wǎn落luò得de一yì宵xiāo快kuài活huó。你nǐ好hǎo道dào还hái活huó著zhe些xiē脚jiǎo儿ér，只zhǐ含hán糊hú答dá应yīng，哄hǒng他tā些xiē斋zhāi饭fàn吃chī了le，今jīn晚wǎn落luò得de一yì宵xiāo快kuài活huó。

“You'd have done better to leave yourself some room to maneuver — just answer vaguely, coax a little vegetarian fare out of her to eat, and win a night's comfort this evening.”

還活著些腳兒 a colloquialism, “to keep a bit of footing free,” i.e. leave room to maneuver; 還 hái (“still”), 活 here “flexible, unfixed,” 著 the durative zhe. 含糊答應 “to answer noncommittally.” 落得一宵快活 — 得 resultative de — “to end up with a night's ease.”

明míng日rì肯kěn與yǔ不bù肯kěn，在zài乎hū你nǐ我wǒ了le。明míng日rì肯kěn与yǔ不bù肯kěn，在zài乎hū你nǐ我wǒ了le。

“As for whether we'd consent tomorrow or not — that would rest with you and me.”

肯與不肯 “whether willing or not.” 在乎你我 “to lie with you and me,” i.e. be within our own control. Bajie's plan is to keep the option open for himself.

似sì這zhè般bān關guān門mén不bù出chū，我wǒ們men這zhè清qīng灰huī冷lěng灶zào，一yí夜yè怎zěn過guò？」似sì这zhè般bān关guān门mén不bù出chū，我wǒ们men这zhè清qīng灰huī冷lěng灶zào，一yí夜yè怎zěn过guò？」

“But shut in like this behind a closed door, with our cold ashes and chill stove — how are we to pass the night?”

似這般 “in this manner,” 似 sì, 般 bān. 清灰冷灶 “cold ash and chilly hearth,” the set image for a fireless, comfortless lodging. Bajie's lament for the lost supper is the note on which the public scene ends.

總評 Commentary

The widow's exit is as abrupt as her fury: she turns behind the screen and slams the inner door, and with it shuts off tea, food, and any further welcome. The pilgrims are left literally out in the cold — the withdrawal of hospitality both a retaliation for their refusal and, as it will prove, one more pressure applied to the weakest of them.

For the scene now belongs to Bajie's grievance. His complaint against Tripitaka is purely practical and wholly self-incriminating: the Master was clumsy to refuse so flatly (“said it all clean dead”); far better to have temporized, wheedled a meal, and banked a night's comfort, keeping the marriage-option open for “tomorrow.” The very reasoning he offers as tactics betrays where his own heart has gone.

The closing image — closed door, cold ash, chill stove, a night to be got through hungry — is the hinge of the chapter. The overt, public phase of the temptation is over and has been withstood; but the covert phase is opening, and Bajie's fretful lament over the lost supper is precisely the appetite through which the four saints' test will find its mark.