熟鐵之腿 Legs of Wrought Iron
大仙笑道:「這潑猴倒言語膂烈。這等便先打他。」小仙問:「打多少?」大仙道:「照依果數,打三十鞭。」那小仙掄鞭就打。行者恐仙家法大,睜圓眼瞅定,看他打那裡。原來打腿,行者就把腰扭一扭,叫聲:「變!」變作兩條熟鐵腿,看他怎麼打。那小仙一下一下的打了三十,天早向午了。大仙笑道:「这泼猴倒言语膂烈。这等便先打他。」小仙问:「打多少?」大仙道:「照依果数,打三十鞭。」那小仙抡鞭就打。行者恐仙家法大,睁圆眼瞅定,看他打那里。原来打腿,行者就把腰扭一扭,叫声:「变!」变作两条熟铁腿,看他怎么打。那小仙一下一下的打了三十,天早向午了。
逐句解 Line by line
The Great Immortal laughed: "This brazen monkey is bold enough in his talk.
倒言語膂烈 (dào yányǔ lǚliè) "his speech is, on the contrary, forceful," 倒 (dào) "rather, actually," 膂烈 (lǚliè) "vigorous, forceful."
"In that case, beat him first."
這等 (zhè děng) "in that case, so then"—the master grants the monkey's demand.
The little immortal asked, "How many strokes?"
打多少 (dǎ duōshao) "how many blows [to give]?"—the executioner awaits the count.
The Great Immortal said, "By the number of the fruit—thirty lashes."
照依果數 (zhào yī guǒ shù) "according to the fruit-count," 數 (shù) the noun "number." 三十鞭 (sānshí biān) "thirty of the whip"—one lash for each fruit lost, plus the surplus.
That little immortal swung the whip and struck.
掄鞭就打 (lún biān jiù dǎ) "swung the whip and struck [at once]."
The Pilgrim, fearing the immortal's magic ran deep, glared round-eyed and fixed his gaze to see where he would strike.
恐仙家法大 (kǒng xiānjiā fǎ dà) "fearing the immortal's arts were great." 瞅定 (chǒu dìng) "fixed his stare," 瞅 (chǒu). 看他打那裡 (kàn tā dǎ nǎlǐ) "to see where he struck," interrogative 那 (nǎ).
It turned out he struck the legs; so the Pilgrim gave his waist a twist and cried, "Change!"
打腿 (dǎ tuǐ) "struck the legs." 把腰扭一扭 (bǎ yāo niǔ yì niǔ) "gave his waist a twist"—Wukong prepares to transform before the blow lands.
and turned them into two legs of wrought iron—to see how he would beat those.
兩條熟鐵腿 (liǎng tiáo shú tiě tuǐ) "two legs of wrought iron"—Wukong's body made proof against the whip.
That little immortal laid on thirty strokes, one after another, and the day was already near noon.
一下一下的 (yí xià yí xià de) "stroke after stroke." 天早向午 (tiān zǎo xiàng wǔ) "the day already turning toward noon."
Wukong's courage is qualified, in the novel's comic way, by his cunning: he offers his body to the whip, then quietly turns his legs to wrought iron so the thirty lashes cannot hurt him. It is heroism and trickery at once—he genuinely spares his master, but takes no real punishment himself. The count of thirty (one per fruit, with the surplus) shows the Great Immortal exacting a precise, almost bookkeeping justice.