緊箍勒猴 The Fillet-Spell Squeezes the Monkey
那長老原來是一頭水的,被那獃子搖動了,他就叫:「悟空,若果有手段醫活這個皇帝,正是『救人一命,勝造七級浮圖』。我等也強似靈山拜佛。」行者道:「師父,你怎麼信這獃子亂談?人若死了,或三七五七,盡七百日,受滿了陽間罪過,就轉生去了。如今已死三年,如何救得?」三藏聞其言道:「也罷了。」八戒苦恨不息,道:「師父,你莫被他瞞了,他有些夾腦風。你只念念那話兒,管他還你一個活人。」真個唐僧就念緊箍兒咒,勒得那猴子眼脹頭疼。那长老原来是一头水的,被那呆子摇动了,他就叫:「悟空,若果有手段医活这个皇帝,正是『救人一命,胜造七级浮图』。我等也强似灵山拜佛。」行者道:「师父,你怎么信这呆子乱谈?人若死了,或三七五七,尽七百日,受满了阳间罪过,就转生去了。如今已死三年,如何救得?」三藏闻其言道:「也罢了。」八戒苦恨不息,道:「师父,你莫被他瞒了,他有些夹脑风。你只念念那话儿,管他还你一个活人。」真个唐僧就念紧箍儿咒,勒得那猴子眼胀头疼。
逐句解 Line by line
The elder, being by nature easily swayed, was worked upon by the blockhead, and called out: 'Wukong, if you truly have the means to cure this emperor back to life, then indeed "to save a single life is better than to raise a seven-story pagoda."'
一頭水 — 'all of a piece, like water' — is an idiom for someone with no resistance in them, who takes the shape of whatever is poured in. It is an unusually blunt thing for the narrator to say about Tripitaka, and it is fair. 救人一命,勝造七級浮圖: 'to save one life is better than to raise a seven-story pagoda' — a Buddhist proverb still in daily use, and a shrewd one to quote here, since building pagodas was the standard way for the rich to buy merit. 浮圖 is a transcription of stūpa. 那, twice, = nà; 長 = zhǎng.
'It would be even better for us than worshipping the Buddha on Spirit Mountain.'
強似靈山拜佛: better even than worshipping the Buddha at Spirit Mountain — which is, awkwardly, the destination of the entire pilgrimage. 強 = qiáng, 'stronger, better than'; 似 = sì; 佛 = fó.
The Pilgrim said: 'Master, how can you believe this blockhead's wild talk?'
信這獃子亂談: to believe this blockhead's wild talk (獃子: 子 the light ending). 行 = xíng.
'When a person dies — whether at the third seven, the fifth seven, the closing seventh, or the hundredth day — once the punishments of the mortal world are served out, they pass on to be reborn.'
Wukong answers with the timetable of the dead. A soul is judged in weekly stages after it leaves the body, and mourning families kept the count: 三七 is the third seven-day period, day twenty-one, and 五七 the fifth, day thirty-five. Serve out what the mortal world is owed and you pass on to be reborn — after which there is nobody left to call back. 盡 is one of those characters with two pronunciations, and which one you use depends on what the word is doing. Said jìn, on a falling tone, it means something has run its course — reached its end, been finished off, been used up: 盡頭 is the far end of a road, 用盡 is used up entirely. Said jǐn, on a rising tone, it means 'as much as you can' — pushing a thing as far as it will go, as in 盡快, 'as fast as possible.' This line is about a stretch of time running out, not about doing something to the utmost, so the falling tone is the right one. (盡七 is itself the standing name for the last of the seven weekly rites, the forty-ninth day.) 受滿…陽間罪過: having served out the punishments owed to the world of the living.
'This one has been dead three years now — how is he to be saved?'
救得: to be saved (得 = de). Three years is not twenty-one days, and the argument is a good one.
Tripitaka, hearing this, said: 'Well, let it be, then.'
也罷了: 'well, let it go, then.' Read bà le, the resigned exclamation, not the soft ending sound. He is persuaded — and Bajie is not finished. 三藏 = zàng.
Bajie, chafing bitterly and unappeased, said: 'Master, don't let him hoodwink you — he's a touch brain-addled.'
苦恨不息: chafing bitterly and not letting it rest (不 = bù). 夾腦風 — 'wind in the brain' — is a folk name for a touch of madness, wind being the traditional cause of sudden derangement. So Bajie is calling his brother soft in the head, in front of the one person who can act on it.
'Just recite that little spell of yours, and I'll warrant he gives you back a living man.'
那話兒: 'that little thing of yours,' the spell nobody has to name (那 = nà; 兒 the light ending). 還你一個活人: he'll hand you back a living man — where 還 is read huán, 'to give back,' not hái, 'still.'
And sure enough the Tang Monk recited the tightening-fillet spell, squeezing till the monkey's eyes bulged and his head throbbed.
緊箍兒咒: the tightening-fillet spell (兒 the light ending). 勒得…眼脹頭疼: squeezed until his eyes bulged and his head throbbed (得 = de; 那 = nà). Bajie gets exactly what he plotted on the road, and the chapter ends with the Great Sage in agony over a job he has already proved is impossible.
The plot works exactly as designed. Tripitaka, whom the narrator flatly calls a man with no resistance in him, seizes on the hope of resurrection and reaches for the proverb that saving a life outweighs raising a pagoda — better even, he says, than worshipping the Buddha at Spirit Mountain, which is where they are all going. His compassion, aimed by Bajie at a specific target, now bears down on Wukong.
Wukong's objection is coolly doctrinal. He sets out the timetable of death — the rites a mourning family keeps at day twenty-one, day thirty-five, day forty-nine and day one hundred — after which the soul is reborn and past recall, so a king three years dead is simply beyond saving. The argument nearly wins. Tripitaka, persuaded, says let it go. But Bajie has not spent a night carrying a corpse to stop here.
The chapter's engine of comic malice reaches its climax. Refusing to let the matter drop, Bajie calls his brother soft in the head and delivers the blow he has been saving: let the Master recite the spell and compel a revival. Tripitaka obliges, Wukong's own leash is pulled, and the chapter ends with the demon still on the throne, the king still dead, and the Great Sage squeezed into attempting the impossible.