原文 Original text
繁體 Traditional
Reader's edition
一堆妖怪
A Whole Heap of Fiends
長老道:「可有妖怪麼?」八戒道:「有妖怪,有妖怪,一堆妖怪哩!」長老道:「怎麼打發你來?」八戒說:「他叫我做豬祖宗、豬外公,安排些粉湯素食,教我吃了一頓,說道擺旗鼓送我們過山哩。」行者道:「想是在草裡睡著了,說得是夢話。」獃子聞言,就嚇得矮了二寸道:「爺爺呀!我睡他怎麼曉得?」长老道:「可有妖怪么?」八戒道:「有妖怪,有妖怪,一堆妖怪哩!」长老道:「怎么打发你来?」八戒说:「他叫我做猪祖宗、猪外公,安排些粉汤素食,教我吃了一顿,说道摆旗鼓送我们过山哩。」行者道:「想是在草里睡著了,说得是梦话。」呆子闻言,就吓得矮了二寸道:「爷爷呀!我睡他怎么晓得?」
逐句解 Line by line
長老道:「可有妖怪麼?」
长老道:「可有妖怪么?」
Said the Elder: “Are there fiends, then?”
妖怪 (yāoguài), "fiends, monsters." 長 zhǎng.
八戒道:「有妖怪,有妖怪,一堆妖怪哩!」
八戒道:「有妖怪,有妖怪,一堆妖怪哩!」
Said Eight Rules: “There are fiends, there are fiends — a whole heap of fiends!”
一堆 (yì duī), "a whole heap." (The lie already inflated.)
長老道:「怎麼打發你來?」
长老道:「怎么打发你来?」
Said the Elder: “And how did they send you off?”
打發 (dǎ fā), "to send off, dispatch." 長 zhǎng.
八戒說:「他叫我做豬祖宗、豬外公,安排些粉湯素食,教我吃了一頓,說道擺旗鼓送我們過山哩。」
八戒说:「他叫我做猪祖宗、猪外公,安排些粉汤素食,教我吃了一顿,说道摆旗鼓送我们过山哩。」
Said Eight Rules: “They called me Grandsire Hog and Great-Uncle Hog, laid out noodle-soup and vegetarian fare, gave me a good meal, and said they’d escort us over the mountain with flags and drums.”
豬祖宗 / 豬外公 (zhū zǔzōng / zhū wàigōng), "Grandsire Hog / Great-Uncle Hog." 粉湯素食, "noodle-soup and vegetarian fare."
行者道:「想是在草裡睡著了,說得是夢話。」
行者道:「想是在草里睡著了,说得是梦话。」
Said Pilgrim: “He must have fallen asleep in the grass, and this is his sleep-talk.”
睡著了 (shuì zháo le), "fell asleep" — completive 著 zháo. 說得 — 得 de.
獃子聞言,就嚇得矮了二寸道:「爺爺呀!我睡他怎麼曉得?」
呆子闻言,就吓得矮了二寸道:「爷爷呀!我睡他怎么晓得?」
At these words the blockhead shrank two inches in fright: “Good heavens! I was asleep — how does he know?”
矮了二寸 (ǎi le èr cùn), "shrank two inches." 嚇得/曉得 — 得 de (twice).
總評 Commentary
Eight Rules delivers his fabrication with theatrical excess — “a whole heap of fiends!” — and embellishes it absurdly, claiming the demons hailed him as “Grandsire Hog,” feasted him on noodle-soup, and promised to escort the pilgrims over the mountain with flags and drums. The lie is far grander than the flat, plausible version he had rehearsed, his vanity overrunning his own plan.
Pilgrim springs the first trap-door with mock detachment, remarking that the pig “must have fallen asleep and this is his sleep-talk.” The barb lands precisely, and Eight Rules’s panicked recoil — shrinking “two inches” and blurting “I was asleep — how does he know?” — betrays the whole truth in a single reflex, the self-incrimination that comic exposure always turns upon.