帶郎認公 Taking the Son to His Grandsire
行者即跳下石崖,到他塔門之下。那公主道:「你這和尚,全無信義:你說放了你師弟,就與我孩兒,怎麼你師弟放去,把我孩兒又留,反來我門首做甚?」行者陪笑道:「公主休怪。你來的日子已久,帶你令郎去認他外公去哩。」公主道:「和尚莫無禮。我那黃袍郎比眾不同,你若諕了我的孩兒,與他柳柳驚是。」行者笑道:「公主啊,為人生在天地之間,怎麼便是得罪?」行者即跳下石崖,到他塔门之下。那公主道:「你这和尚,全无信义:你说放了你师弟,就与我孩儿,怎么你师弟放去,把我孩儿又留,反来我门首做甚?」行者陪笑道:「公主休怪。你来的日子已久,带你令郎去认他外公去哩。」公主道:「和尚莫无礼。我那黄袍郎比众不同,你若諕了我的孩儿,与他柳柳惊是。」行者笑道:「公主啊,为人生在天地之间,怎么便是得罪?」
逐句解 Line by line
Pilgrim at once leapt down from the stony crag and came beneath the door of the tower.
塔門 (tǎ mén), the door of the pagoda-tower that crowns the cave.
The princess said, “You monk, wholly without good faith! You said that once your brother was freed you would give me my children; yet your brother is loosed and gone, and my children you keep still — what do you mean, coming back to my very door?”
信義 (xìnyì), good faith, trustworthiness. 孩兒 (hái’ér), children; 兒 read ér. 做甚 (zuò shén), to what purpose; 甚 read shén. 那 read nà.
Pilgrim said with an ingratiating laugh, “Let the princess not take it amiss.
陪笑 (péi xiào), to smile ingratiatingly, to laugh placatingly. 休怪 (xiū guài), do not blame, take no offence.
You have been here now a long while; I am taking your young masters to acknowledge their grandsire.”
令郎 (lìng láng), a courteous “your son.” 認外公 (rèn wàigōng), to acknowledge the maternal grandfather — i.e. to be presented to the King of Baoxiang.
The princess said, “Monk, be not insolent.
莫無禮 (mò wúlǐ), do not be rude, offer no insult.
My lord Yellow Robe is unlike common folk; if you have frightened my children, then soothe away their fright for them.”
黃袍郎 (Huángpáo láng), “my lord Yellow Robe,” the princess’s husband. 柳柳驚 (liǔliǔ jīng), a folk charm or soothing to calm a startled child. 諕 read xià; 兒 read ér; 那 read nà.
Pilgrim said with a laugh, “Princess — for one born a human being into this world between heaven and earth, how should this be an offence?”
為人 (wéi rén), to be a human being; 為 read wéi. 得罪 (dézuì), to give offence, to commit a fault; 得 read dé. 間 read jiān.
The exchange at the tower door mingles comedy and menace. The princess’s reproach for broken faith is just — Wukong has indeed kept the children after Sha Seng’s release — and his placating laugh and the fiction of “taking the young masters to meet their grandsire” thinly veil the true design of using them to bait the demon. Her warning about her formidable husband keeps the danger present beneath the banter.
Wukong’s closing sally — that to be born human is no offence — turns the conversation, with deceptive lightness, toward the ground on which he means to fight her: not force, but the moral reproach of unfiliality. The pilgrim who deals in iron here shows himself equally ready to deal in the language of the Classics, baiting a snare of Confucian argument that the next passage springs.