變裝候妖 In Disguise, Awaiting the Imps
行者道：「怪道他變個老道士，把我師父騙去了。既這等，你都且記打，回去罷。等老孫自家拿他。」那眾神俱騰空而散。這大聖搖身一變，變做個老真人。你道他怎生打扮：行者道：「怪道他变个老道士，把我师父骗去了。既这等，你都且记打，回去罢。等老孙自家拿他。」那众神俱腾空而散。这大圣摇身一变，变做个老真人。你道他怎生打扮：
逐句解 Line by line
Pilgrim said: “No wonder he turned himself into an old Daoist to trick my master away! In that case, I'll hold your beating on account — go on back, the lot of you. Old Monkey will catch him himself.”
怪道 (guài dào), “no wonder, that explains why.” 記打 (jì dǎ), “to hold a beating in reserve, chalk it up” — a reprieve, not a pardon. 都…回去罷 (dōu…huí qù ba), “off you all go,” the hortative 罷 (ba).
The assembled gods all rose into the air and scattered.
騰空而散 (téng kōng ér sàn), “rose into the sky and dispersed.” Dismissed, the gods flee gratefully.
The Great Sage gave his body a shake and turned into an old Perfected Man.
搖身一變 (yáo shēn yí biàn), “with a shake of the body, transformed” — Monkey's signature metamorphosis. 老真人 (lǎo zhēn rén), “an old Perfected One, a Daoist adept.”
And how was he got up? Just see:
怎生打扮 (zěn shēng dǎ bàn), “how was he attired” — the storyteller's tag introducing the descriptive verse.
On his head, twin topknots coiled; / on his body, a hundred-patch robe.
雙髽髻 (shuāng zhuā jì), “twin coiled buns,” a Daoist hairstyle. 百衲衣 (bǎi nà yī), “a robe of a hundred patches,” the mendicant's garment.
In his hand he beat a fisher's drum and clapper; / at his waist he tied a Lü Dongbin sash.
漁鼓簡 (yú gǔ jiǎn), “the fish-drum and bamboo clappers,” instruments of the wandering Daoist. 呂公絛 (lǚ gōng tāo), “the sash of Lord Lü” (Lü Dongbin); 繫 read jì, “to tie.”
Leaning aslant by the great road, / he waited on purpose for the little imps.
斜倚 (xié yǐ), “leaning at a slant.” 專候 (zhuān hòu), “to wait expressly for.” Pilgrim sets his ambush in plain sight.
In a moment the imps arrived; / the Monkey King, unseen, laid his sly snare.
頃刻 (qǐng kè), “in an instant.” 暗放刁 (àn fàng diāo), “secretly worked a cunning trick,” 刁, “wile, sly stratagem.” The disguise is set; the contest of wits begins.
The pieces click into place. The earth-god's report explains the whole earlier stratagem — “no wonder he turned himself into an old Daoist” — and Pilgrim, disguise in hand, dismisses the gods with a characteristic flourish, their beating merely deferred, not forgiven. Then, with his signature shake of the body, the Great Sage becomes what the demon loves: an old Perfected One, complete with twin topknots, hundred-patch robe, fish-drum, and a sash borrowed in name from the immortal Lü Dongbin.
The descriptive verse frames the turning of the tables. Where the fiend had disguised himself to prey on the party, Pilgrim now disguises himself to prey on the fiend's imps — leaning by the roadside “on purpose,” laying his “sly snare” in plain sight. The long sequence of the party's undoing now pivots into Monkey's counterattack: the trap-setter about to be trapped, the contest of treasures about to become a contest of wits, at which the Great Sage has no equal.