老妖出戰 The Old Fiend Comes Forth
往來縱橫,如入無人之境。止剩一個老妖,趕出門來罵道:「你這潑猴,其實憊懶!怎麼上門子欺負人家?」行者急回頭,用手招呼道:「你來,你來,打倒你,才是功績。」那怪物,舉寶刀,分頭便砍;好行者,掣鐵棒,覿面相迎。這一場,在那山頂上,半雲半霧的殺哩:往来纵横,如入无人之境。止剩一个老妖,赶出门来骂道:「你这泼猴,其实惫懒!怎么上门子欺负人家?」行者急回头,用手招呼道:「你来,你来,打倒你,才是功绩。」那怪物,举宝刀,分头便砍;好行者,掣铁棒,觌面相迎。这一场,在那山顶上,半云半雾的杀哩:
逐句解 Line by line
Back and forth, this way and that, he moved as through a land without men.
縱橫 (zònghéng), ranging freely in every direction. 如入無人之境 (rú rù wú rén zhī jìng), as if entering a place empty of men — meeting no resistance.
Only the old fiend was left, and he came charging out at the door, railing, “You vile monkey, you are past all bearing!
憊懶 (bèilǎn), insufferable, shameless, past all bearing. 潑猴 (pō hóu), vile monkey.
How dare you come to a man’s very door to bully him?”
上門子 (shàng mén zi), to come to another’s door. 欺負 (qīfu), to bully, to impose upon.
Pilgrim wheeled about at once, and beckoning with his hand cried, “Come on, come on — to knock you down, that will be the achievement.”
招呼 (zhāohu), to beckon, to hail. 打倒 (dǎ dǎo), to knock down, to fell; 倒 read dǎo. 功績 (gōngjì), an achievement, a feat.
The fiend raised his precious blade and hewed straight at the head; the brave Pilgrim whipped out his iron staff and met him face to face.
分頭便砍 (fēn tóu biàn kǎn), to hew straight at the head. 掣鐵棒 (chè tiě bàng), to whip out the iron staff. 覿面相迎 (dí miàn xiāng yíng), to meet face to face; 覿 read dí, 相 read xiāng. 那 read nà.
And this bout, upon that mountain peak, half in cloud and half in mist, they fought thus:
半雲半霧 (bàn yún bàn wù), half among cloud and half among mist — a formula for combat aloft. 殺哩 (shā li), “[they] fought,” introducing the battle-verse. 那 read nà.
With his minions scattered, the old fiend himself sallies out, and the exchange of taunts — the demon’s charge of bullying, Wukong’s cool invitation to be knocked down — observes the ritual preliminaries of single combat. The demon’s complaint that Wukong has come “to a man’s very door to bully him” carries an unwitting irony, given the household deceptions by which the Great Sage has already stripped him of wife and treasure alike.
The passage closes on the storyteller’s formula that ushers in the set-piece verse: the two combatants poised blade against staff, half in cloud and half in mist upon the peak. The prose hands off here to the parallel couplets of the battle-rhapsody, in the manner the novel reserves for its most spectacular duels, elevating the clash from narrative into the heightened, formal register of verse.