打棍當茶 A Club-Blow for Tea
行者道:「且不必講此閑話。只說老孫今日到你家裡,你好怠慢了遠客。雖無酒饌款待,頭卻是有的。快快將頭伸過來,等老孫打一棍兒當茶。」那怪聞得說打,呵呵大笑道:「孫行者,你差了計較了,你既說要打,不該跟我進來。我這裡大小群妖還有百十,饒你滿身是手,也打不出我的門去。」行者道:「不要胡說,莫說百十個,就有幾千幾萬,只要一個個查明白了好打,棍棍無空,教你斷根絕跡。」行者道:「且不必讲此闲话。只说老孙今日到你家里,你好怠慢了远客。虽无酒馔款待,头却是有的。快快将头伸过来,等老孙打一棍儿当茶。」那怪闻得说打,呵呵大笑道:「孙行者,你差了计较了,你既说要打,不该跟我进来。我这里大小群妖还有百十,饶你满身是手,也打不出我的门去。」行者道:「不要胡说,莫说百十个,就有几千几万,只要一个个查明白了好打,棍棍无空,教你断根绝迹。」
逐句解 Line by line
Pilgrim said, "Enough of this idle talk.
閑話, xián huà: idle talk, digression.
Say only that old Sun has come to your house today, and you have shown a guest from afar but poor courtesy.
Now the joke changes shape. 怠慢, dài màn, to slight a guest, to receive somebody with scant courtesy; 遠客, yuǎn kè, a guest from afar. He is filing a complaint about hospitality.
Though you have no wine and viands to entertain me, a head at least you have.
酒饌, jiǔ zhuàn, wine and dishes; 款待, kuǎn dài, to entertain properly. "No wine, no food — but you do have a head" is a superb piece of menace, and it works because the whole sentence is built on the etiquette of receiving visitors.
Come, stretch out that head of yours quickly, and let old Sun give it a blow of the staff by way of tea."
當茶, dàng chá, "by way of tea" — 當 read dàng, "to serve as." Tea is what a host offers a guest the moment he sits down; Wukong proposes to take a blow of the staff instead, from the host's skull.
The fiend, hearing talk of blows, laughed aloud, "Sun the Pilgrim, you have miscalculated: if you meant to fight, you should not have come in after me.
差了計較, chà le jì jiào, to have reckoned wrong — 差 read chà, "amiss." 呵呵大笑, hē hē dà xiào, to laugh out loud. His point is sound: you should not have followed me indoors.
Here I have a good hundred of my host, great and small; though you were hands all over, you could not fight your way out of my door."
大小群妖, dà xiǎo qún yāo, the whole host, great and small; 滿身是手, mǎn shēn shì shǒu, "hands all over your body" — that is, however many hands you had. As threats go it is well chosen, and the next passage answers it far too literally.
Pilgrim said, "Talk no nonsense. Never mind a hundred — were there thousands upon thousands, I need only pick them off one by one, and my staff shall not miss a stroke; I will leave you neither root nor trace."
查明白, chá míng bai, to reckon them up one by one; 棍棍無空, gùn gùn wú kōng, not a stroke of the staff falling idle; 斷根絕跡, duàn gēn jué jì, to leave neither root nor trace. The bookkeeping tone is the frightening part.
Wukong's challenge comes in the sardonic idiom of hospitality turned upside down: cast as an ill-used guest offered no wine, he demands the host's head instead, and a blow of the staff by way of tea. The grim playfulness — the forms of courtesy bent to the language of slaughter — is characteristic of the novel's battle-banter, and re-establishes the Great Sage's swagger after the long masquerade.
The demon's boast of his hundredfold host, and Wukong's answering vow to club them all and leave neither root nor trace, complete the ritual exchange of taunts that precedes combat throughout the book, and turn the chapter at last from words to war.