長老哀君 The Elder Laments the King
那唐僧與沙僧開門看處,那皇帝容顏未改,似活的一般。長老忽然慘悽道:「陛下,你不知那世裡冤家,今生遇著他,暗喪其身,拋妻別子,致令文武不知,多官不曉。可憐你妻子昏蒙,誰曾見焚香獻茶?」忽失聲淚如雨下。八戒笑道:「師父,他死了可干你事?又不是你家父祖,哭他怎的?」三藏道:「徒弟啊,出家人慈悲為本,方便為門。你怎的這等心硬?」八戒道:「不是心硬,師兄和我說來,他會醫得活;若醫不活,我也不馱他來了。」那唐僧与沙僧开门看处,那皇帝容颜未改,似活的一般。长老忽然惨凄道:「陛下,你不知那世里冤家,今生遇著他,暗丧其身,抛妻别子,致令文武不知,多官不晓。可怜你妻子昏蒙,谁曾见焚香献茶?」忽失声泪如雨下。八戒笑道:「师父,他死了可干你事?又不是你家父祖,哭他怎的?」三藏道:「徒弟啊,出家人慈悲为本,方便为门。你怎的这等心硬?」八戒道:「不是心硬,师兄和我说来,他会医得活;若医不活,我也不驮他来了。」
逐句解 Line by line
When the Tang Monk and Sha Monk opened the door to look, the emperor's face was unchanged, as though he were alive.
容顏未改,似活: the face unchanged, as if alive (似 = sì). 那 (twice) = nà; 處 = chù.
The elder said in sudden grief: 'Your Majesty — you knew not what foe from a former life you met in this one, who secretly took your life, so that you were parted from wife and child, and your civil and military officers left all unknowing.'
那世裡冤家: a foe (karmic enemy) from a former life (那 = nà, 'that [other] life'). 遇著: met (著 = zháo). 拋妻別子: parted from wife and child (子 = zǐ). 長 = zhǎng (長老).
'Pitiable that your wife and children are kept in the dark — who has ever been seen to burn incense or offer you tea?'
妻子昏蒙: the wife and children kept benighted (子 = zǐ). 焚香獻茶: to burn incense and offer tea — the rites of mourning none has performed.
And suddenly he broke down, his tears falling like rain.
失聲淚如雨下: broke down, tears like rain. Tripitaka's tender-heartedness on full display.
Bajie laughed: 'Master, what business is his dying of yours?'
可干你事: 'what business of yours?' — Bajie's callous jest.
'He's no father or forebear of your house — what are you weeping over him for?'
不是你家父祖: 'no father or forebear of yours' (不 = bú). Bajie mocks the monk's grief for a stranger.
Tripitaka said: 'Disciple — for one who has left the household life, compassion is the root, and expedient kindness the gate.'
慈悲為本,方便為門: 'compassion the root, expedient means the gate' — a Buddhist maxim on the monastic's proper disposition (為 ×2 = wéi). 三藏 = zàng.
'How can you be so hard of heart?'
心硬: hard-hearted.
Bajie said: 'It's not that I'm hard of heart — my elder brother told me he could cure him back to life;'
醫得活: could cure [him] to life (得 = de). Bajie reveals his motive — and his scheme.
'if he couldn't cure him, I'd never have hauled him here at all.'
醫不活: if [he] can't cure him (不 = bù). Bajie sets the trap: he only hauled the corpse because Wukong promised a revival.
The chapter's final movement opens on Tripitaka's grief. The preserved face, unchanged as if alive, moves the tender-hearted monk to a full lament for the king's ruin — murdered by a karmic foe, parted from wife and children, unmourned by a family kept in ignorance. The passage gives the monk his characteristic note: an overflowing compassion that weeps for a stranger three years dead.
Bajie's callousness is the deliberate foil. His jeers ('what business of yours is his dying?') provoke Tripitaka's statement of the monastic ideal — compassion the root, expedient kindness the gate — and set up the pig's real maneuver. For Bajie's mockery is strategic: it is the opening move of the revenge-plot he devised on the road, designed to steer the soft-hearted master toward demanding a revival Wukong cannot easily perform.
The trap is sprung obliquely. Bajie lets slip that he only hauled the corpse because Wukong 'said he could cure him back to life' — planting in Tripitaka's grieving mind the possibility of resurrection, and the expectation that Wukong can deliver it. The scene turns the monk's genuine compassion into the instrument of Bajie's petty vengeance, and drives toward the fillet-spell with which the chapter ends.