柏上簡帖 The Note on the Cypress
三藏聞言，合掌頂禮。又只見那後邊古柏樹上，飄飄蕩蕩的掛著一張簡帖兒。沙僧急去取來與師父看時，卻是八句頌子云：三藏闻言，合掌顶礼。又只见那后边古柏树上，飘飘荡荡的挂着一张简帖儿。沙僧急去取来与师父看时，却是八句颂子云：
逐句解 Line by line
Hearing this, Tripitaka pressed his palms together and bowed his head in reverence.
合掌頂禮, palms joined and forehead lowered, is the full gesture of homage. He has just learned he spent the night refusing a goddess, and this is the only possible response.
Then they saw, on an old cypress tree behind them, a slip of paper hanging and fluttering in the breeze.
古柏樹上, up on the old cypress; 掛著一張簡帖, a note hanging there, with the running 著 (zhe) and 兒 as the suffix; 那 as nà. They left a note.
Sha Monk hurried to fetch it for the master to read, and it proved to be an eight-line gatha, which ran:
八句頌子云, an eight-line sòng that says, with 頌子 taking 子 as the light suffix zi. A 頌 is a gatha, the verse form Buddhist scripture uses for a teaching set down in memorable shape — the right form for a lesson meant to be carried away.
The Old Mother of Mount Li had no yearning for the mundane; / the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea invited her down the mountain.
黎山老母, the Old Mother of Mount Li, is a goddess of long standing in Chinese religion, teacher of heroes and, in this instance, the widow. 南海菩薩, the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea, is Guanyin, who convened the whole thing. 不思凡, with no yearning for the dust-world — which is the point: she came down for their sake, not her own.
Samantabhadra and Manjusri were both the guests; / they took the form of fair maidens amid the grove.
普賢 is Samantabhadra and 文殊 is Manjusri, the two great bodhisattvas who flank the Buddha — Universal Worthy and the embodiment of wisdom. They were the guests, and they were two of the daughters. 化成美女, took the form of beautiful women. The three loveliest girls in the chapter were, it turns out, two of the highest figures in the Mahayana pantheon and a mountain goddess.
The holy monk, being virtuous, was yet free of the worldly; / Bajie, lacking Chan, was the more full of the mundane.
聖僧有德還無俗, the holy monk has virtue and is free of worldliness, with 還 as hái, still. 八戒無禪更有凡, Bajie has no Chan and all the more of the mortal, with 更 as gèng, the more. The verdict is delivered in a balanced pair of lines, praise and reproach weighed against each other character for character.
From now, still your mind and mend your faults; / should you grow slack, the road ahead is hard.
靜心須改過, still the mind and mend your faults; 若生怠慢路途難, if slackness sets in the road will be hard, with 難 as nán. Note that the warning is addressed to all four of them, not only to the one tied up in the trees.
Tripitaka's reverent bow gives way to one more sign: a slip of paper fluttering on an old cypress behind them. Sha Monk fetches it, and it proves to be an eight-line gatha — the bodhisattvas' own account of the night, left behind as explanation and as lesson.
The verse names the four saints at last. The widow was the Old Mother of Mount Li; Guanyin, Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea, convened the test; and Samantabhadra and Manjusri were the guests, taking the shapes of the daughters. The elaborate seduction turns out to have been a coordinated examination of the pilgrims' discipline, staged by the highest powers watching over the journey — which recasts every leer and every slammed door in the chapter.
The second half strikes the moral balance. Tripitaka, virtuous, kept clear of the worldly; Bajie, empty of Chan, proved all the more a creature of appetite. And it closes on an instruction for the road ahead: still the mind, mend the faults, because slackness will make the pilgrimage hard. The chapter's purpose stands fully disclosed. The trial was mercy wearing the costume of temptation, and the note on the tree is the report card.