回心轉意 The Elder Relents
原來這唐僧是個慈憫的聖僧,他見行者哀告,卻也回心轉意道:「既如此說,且饒你這一次,再休無禮。如若仍前作惡,這咒語顛倒就念二十遍。」行者道:「三十遍也由你,只是我不打人了。」卻才伏侍唐僧上馬,又將摘來桃子奉上。唐僧在馬上也吃了幾個,權且充饑。原来这唐僧是个慈悯的圣僧,他见行者哀告,却也回心转意道:「既如此说,且饶你这一次,再休无礼。如若仍前作恶,这咒语颠倒就念二十遍。」行者道:「三十遍也由你,只是我不打人了。」却才伏侍唐僧上马,又将摘来桃子奉上。唐僧在马上也吃了几个,权且充饥。
逐句解 Line by line
Now this Tang Monk was a holy man of a compassionate nature, and seeing Pilgrim plead so piteously, he came round and changed his mind: "Since you put it so, I will pardon you this once — but no more of your insolence.
回心轉意 (huí xīn zhuǎn yì) — turn the heart round, turn the mind about — is still the ordinary Chinese for changing your mind about somebody. And notice what does the turning. Not evidence, not argument: 哀告, the sound of a man pleading. The same soft-heartedness that believed the demon now forgives the disciple. His mercy is real, and it swings whichever way it is pushed. (慈憫 is compassionate, merciful.)
"But if ever again you do evil, I will recite this spell twenty times over, in full."
The pardon comes with the instrument left on the table. 顛倒 here means the whole thing through, over and over — turn it upside down and start again — with 倒 read dào, "to reverse". Twenty recitations, next time.
Said Pilgrim, "Thirty times, if you like — only I'll strike no one again."
Thirty, if you like. It is a lovely piece of characterisation: he will not sulk, and he will not give up an inch of dignity either, so he raises his own sentence and moves on. But listen to what he actually promises — I will hit nobody again. The demon is at this moment on her way back down.
And with that he waited on the Tang Monk to mount, and offered up besides the peaches he had picked.
And then he helps the old man onto his horse and hands up the peaches. That is the whole of the apology, and it is made with the fruit he flew across a mountain range to fetch before any of this began. (將 fronts the object; 桃子 takes the toneless zi.)
The Tang Monk, up on his horse, ate a few of them as well, to stay his hunger for the while.
權且 (quán qiě) is "for the moment, as a stopgap". He eats a few. Peace, of a sort — and it survives exactly one passage.
The reconciliation turns on the same trait that caused the trouble: Tripitaka's 慈憫, his compassionate softness. Moved by the kneeling plea, he relents as readily as he condemned — mercy swinging both ways, forgiving the disciple as easily as it pitied the demon. An amiable weakness, and a dangerous one, because what governs it is feeling rather than discernment.
The truce is real but provisional, and the fillet stands over it. Twenty recitations for any further wrongdoing, says the elder; and Wukong's cheerful promise never to strike again is set up, with cruel timing, to be broken within pages by the demon's return. The peaches that opened the episode close it as a peace-offering, briefly sweetening a reconciliation the plot has already arranged to smash.
With this passage the first of three movements closes: strike, spell, plea, pardon. The pattern runs twice more, each cycle wearing down the elder's trust and the disciple's standing, until in the last movement no plea avails and the Great Sage is sent away for good.