敕建寶林寺 Baolin Temple, Built by Decree
這長老放開馬,一直前來,徑到了山門之外。行者道:「師父,這一座是甚麼寺?」三藏道:「我的馬蹄才然停住,腳尖還未出鐙,就問我是甚麼寺,好沒分曉。」行者道:「你老人家自幼為僧,須曾講過儒書,方才去演經法,文理皆通,然後受唐王的恩宥。門上有那般大字,如何不認得?」長老罵道:「潑猢猻!說話無知。我才面西催馬,被那太陽影射,奈何門雖有字,又被塵垢朦朧,所以未曾看見。」行者聞言,把腰兒躬一躬,長了二丈餘高,用手展去灰塵,道:「師父,請看。」上有五個大字,乃是「敕建寶林寺」。行者收了法身,道:「師父,這寺裡誰進去借宿?」三藏道:「我進去。你們的嘴臉醜陋,言語粗疏,性剛氣傲,倘或衝撞了本處僧人,不容借宿,反為不美。」行者道:「既如此,請師父進去,不必多言。」这长老放开马,一直前来,径到了山门之外。行者道:「师父,这一座是甚么寺?」三藏道:「我的马蹄才然停住,脚尖还未出镫,就问我是甚么寺,好没分晓。」行者道:「你老人家自幼为僧,须曾讲过儒书,方才去演经法,文理皆通,然后受唐王的恩宥。门上有那般大字,如何不认得?」长老骂道:「泼猢狲!说话无知。我才面西催马,被那太阳影射,奈何门虽有字,又被尘垢朦胧,所以未曾看见。」行者闻言,把腰儿躬一躬,长了二丈余高,用手展去灰尘,道:「师父,请看。」上有五个大字,乃是「敕建宝林寺」。行者收了法身,道:「师父,这寺里谁进去借宿?」三藏道:「我进去。你们的嘴脸丑陋,言语粗疏,性刚气傲,倘或冲撞了本处僧人,不容借宿,反为不美。」行者道:「既如此,请师父进去,不必多言。」
逐句解 Line by line
The elder gave the horse its head, came straight on, and arrived right before the temple gate.
放開馬 is to give the horse its head; 徑 is straight there, without detour. 長 in 長老 is zhǎng.
The Pilgrim said: "Master, what temple is this one?"
Wukong knows perfectly well what temple it is. 甚麼 is "what," 甚 read shén.
Tripitaka said: "My horse's hooves have only just halted, the tips of my feet aren't even out of the stirrups, and already you ask me what temple it is — what a want of sense!"
Tripitaka is still getting off the horse. 才然 is "only just now"; 鐙 is the stirrup. 好沒分曉 is roughly "how utterly senseless," with 沒 read méi and 分曉 meaning sense or discernment; 還 is hái.
The Pilgrim said: "You, sir, have been a monk from childhood; you must have lectured on the Confucian books before you went on to expound the scriptures — well-versed in letters and sense alike — and only then received King Tang's gracious favour."
And here comes the needle. 自幼為僧 is "a monk since childhood," 為 read wéi, to be or act as; 儒書 are the Confucian classics; 恩宥 is gracious favour. Wukong builds his master an elaborate pedestal of learning for the sole purpose of asking whether a man that educated can read a signboard.
"There are such big characters over the gate — how can you not know them?"
那般 is "such, that sort of," 那 read nà; 認得 is to recognise, 得 read de.
The elder scolded: "You reckless ape!"
It lands. 潑 is a common term of abuse — unruly, rascally — and 猢猻, macaque, is Tripitaka's standing insult for his disciple, deployed whenever dignity is at stake. 長 is zhǎng.
"You talk without sense."
無知 is ignorant. Teased about his eyesight, the master bristles.
"I was just now urging the horse westward, dazzled by the sun's glare; and though the gate has characters, they are blurred over with dust and grime, so I hadn't yet made them out."
The excuse, delivered with feeling: it was the sun in his eyes, and besides, the sign is filthy. 影射 here is to dazzle; 塵垢 is dust and grime. 那 is nà; 未曾 is "not yet," 曾 read céng.
Hearing this, the Pilgrim bent his waist, stretched up more than two zhàng tall, wiped away the dust with his hand, and said: "Master, please look."
Wukong settles the argument by becoming tall enough to clean the sign himself. 腰兒 is the waist, with 兒 as the light suffix er; 長了 is "grew," 長 read zhǎng. The measure is left in Chinese: a 丈, zhàng, is ten Chinese feet, so he has gone up more than twenty of them.
Above were five great characters: "Baolin Temple, Built by Imperial Decree."
敕建 means erected by imperial command — a licence, a name-plaque and a degree of protection, all in two characters. 寶林寺 is Baolin, "Treasure-Grove," Temple; 個 is gè.
The Pilgrim drew in his magic body and said: "Master, who is to go into this temple to ask for lodging?"
法身 is a large Buddhist term pressed into small service here: the transformed body Wukong had put on to reach the sign.
Tripitaka said: "I shall go in."
Tripitaka insists on going in alone, and the passage is about to make him regret it. 藏 is zàng.
"Your faces are ugly, your speech coarse, your tempers hard and your manner haughty; should you offend the monks of this place and they refuse us lodging, that would turn out badly."
His reasoning is not flattering. 嘴臉 is roughly "mug"; 粗疏 is coarse and careless; 本處 is "this place," 處 read chù; 反為不美 is "would turn out unseemly," 為 read wéi.
The Pilgrim said: "If that's so, then please go in, Master — no need for more words."
Wukong yields without argument, which given what happens next is its own kind of joke. 既如此 is "since it is thus"; in 不必 the 不 shifts to bú before 必.
A sustained comic exchange at the gate. Wukong needles his master — surely a monk of such learning can read a signboard — and Tripitaka, stung, blames the sun's glare and a coating of grime rather than his own eyes. Wukong ends the argument by growing more than two zhàng tall and wiping the sign clean himself, which reveals the establishment: Baolin, "Treasure-Grove," Temple, built by imperial decree.
The passage does two things at once. It is light domestic comedy — the fussy master, the irrepressible disciple — and it is exposition, planting the temple's name and its imperial pedigree. Tripitaka's parting worry is pointedly ironic. He insists on going in alone in case his rough-looking disciples give offence and cost them their lodging; in the event every discourtesy will come from the resident abbot, and it is those same disciples who will secure the night's rest.