第三十四回
魔王巧算困心猿
大聖騰挪騙寶貝
The Demon King, by artful reckoning, confounds the Mind-Monkey; the Great Sage, by shifting sleight, filches away the treasures.
原文 Original text
繁體 Traditional
Reader's edition
假妝痛哭
The Feigned Weeping
孫大聖見了,不敢進去,只在二門外仵著臉,脫脫的哭起來,你道他哭怎的,莫成是怕他?就怕也便不哭,況先哄了他的寶貝,又打死他的小妖,卻為何而哭?他當時曾下九鼎油鍋,就煠了七八日,也不曾有一點淚兒。只為想起唐僧取經的苦惱,他就淚出痛腸,放眼便哭。孙大圣见了,不敢进去,只在二门外仵著脸,脱脱的哭起来,你道他哭怎的,莫成是怕他?就怕也便不哭,况先哄了他的宝贝,又打死他的小妖,却为何而哭?他当时曾下九鼎油锅,就煠了七八日,也不曾有一点泪儿。只为想起唐僧取经的苦恼,他就泪出痛肠,放眼便哭。
逐句解 Line by line
孫大聖見了,不敢進去,只在二門外仵著臉,脫脫的哭起來,你道他哭怎的,莫成是怕他?就怕也便不哭,況先哄了他的寶貝,又打死他的小妖,卻為何而哭?
孙大圣见了,不敢进去,只在二门外仵著脸,脱脱的哭起来,你道他哭怎的,莫成是怕他?就怕也便不哭,况先哄了他的宝贝,又打死他的小妖,却为何而哭?
The Great Sage, at the sight, dared not go in; he lingered outside the second gate, covered his face, and fell to sobbing piteously. Now you ask what he wept for — could it be he feared her? Had he feared her, he'd not have wept; and having first swindled her of her treasures and killed her imps besides, why then should he weep?
仵著臉 (wǔ zhe liǎn), "covering the face" — durative zhe. 脫脫的哭 (tuō tuō de kū), "sobbing outright." 卻為何而哭 (què wèi hé ér kū), "why then weep?" — 為 read wèi, "for what reason.”
他當時曾下九鼎油鍋,就煠了七八日,也不曾有一點淚兒。只為想起唐僧取經的苦惱,他就淚出痛腸,放眼便哭。
他当时曾下九鼎油锅,就煠了七八日,也不曾有一点泪儿。只为想起唐僧取经的苦恼,他就泪出痛肠,放眼便哭。
In his day he had gone down into the nine-caldron oil-vats and been fried seven or eight days without a single tear. It was only that, calling to mind the bitter toils of the Tang Monk's scripture-quest, his grief welled up from an aching heart, and he opened his eyes and wept.
當時 (dāng shí), "in that time, once." 一點淚兒 (yì diǎn lèi er), "a single tear" — diminutive er. 只為想起 (zhǐ wèi xiǎng qǐ), "only because he recalled" — 為 read wèi, causal "because.”
總評 Commentary
The narrator's intrusion here is one of the novel's finest strokes of characterization by rhetorical question. Having shown Wukong weeping at the demon-mother's gate, the storyteller stops to interrogate the tears — surely not fear, from one who swindled and killed her? — and by ruling out every base motive, isolates the true one. The device makes the reader complicit in the reasoning, and the answer, when it comes, deepens rather than diminishes the trickster.
The contrast is exactly weighted: eight days in the oil-caldrons of Heaven drew no tear from the invulnerable Monkey, yet the mere thought of Tripitaka's sufferings on the scripture-road brings him to open weeping. The point is that Wukong's tears are not for himself and never were; they are the overflow of a loyalty that pain could not touch but love could. The feigned sobbing at the gate is a performance, but the grief beneath it is real, and the passage lets us see both at once.