禱穢戲三清 A Prayer to the Three Pure Ones
那獃子扛在肩上且不丟了去，口裡嘓嘓噥噥的禱道：那呆子扛在肩上且不丢了去，口里啯啯哝哝的祷道：
祝罷，烹的望裡一捽，灒了半衣襟臭水，走上殿來。祝罢，烹的望里一捽，𪷽了半衣襟臭水，走上殿来。
逐句解 Line by line
That idiot, carrying them on his shoulder but not yet flinging them down, muttered a prayer under his breath:
He holds them on his shoulder and says grace first, which is somehow worse than not doing it. 嘓嘓噥噥 is muttering under the breath, the sound written straight into the characters. 禱 is dǎo, to pray, and the line is the cue for what follows. 那 is nà; 子 is the light zi; 不 is bù before 丟.
"Three Pure Ones, Three Pure Ones, hear what I say: come from afar to this place, we are old hands at destroying demons.
The prayer opens in perfect liturgical form — name the god, name him twice, ask him to listen — and then reports the petitioners' credentials as demon-killers, which no supplicant would do. 慣滅妖精, in the habit of destroying demons.
We would enjoy your offerings, but have nowhere to rest in peace.
The complaint of a man with nowhere to sit. 供 is gòng, offerings; 處 is chù.
We borrow your seats to pause a little while.
借, to borrow — the courtesy is extended and withdrawn in the same breath, since he is saying it with the gods over his shoulder on the way to the latrine.
You have sat a good long while — for now step down into the cesspit.
And there is the sentence. "You have sat a good long while — step down into the cesspit for now." The politeness is the insult; a plain shove would be less offensive than this.
Every ordinary day you have had boundless enjoyment, playing the pure and pristine Daoist;
平日家, in the ordinary run of days. 清淨, pure and unsullied, is a real and central Daoist virtue, which is why he uses it here.
today you cannot help but partake of a little filth, and play a Celestial Worthy who takes in the stench!"
And the closing couplet lands the blasphemy squarely on the balance the prayer has been building: a god who has enjoyed the best of everything every other day may take his turn at the worst today. 天尊, Celestial Worthy, is the proper title of the highest Daoist gods, and it is being handed to something sitting in a privy. 不 is bù before 免.
The prayer done, he flung them in with a splash, spattering half his robe-front with foul water, and came back up into the hall.
The prayer over, in they go — and the foul water comes back up over him, which is the novel's verdict on the whole escapade. 烹的 is the noise of the splash; 灒, zàn, to spatter. 罷 in 祝罷 is the verb bà, having finished; 一 is yì before 捽.
Bajie's doggerel prayer is the comic center of the chapter and a small masterpiece of form. It opens in perfect liturgical shape — name the god, name him twice, ask him to listen — and then turns every convention of address into an insult while keeping the manners intact throughout.
He thanks the gods for the loan of their seats while carrying them to a latrine. He grants that they have enjoyed themselves every other day of their lives, and concludes that they may therefore take a turn at the other thing today: a 天尊, a Celestial Worthy, who receives the stench. The politeness is what makes it blasphemy; a plain shove would have been less offensive.
And then the splash comes back up over him. The novel is even-handed about its own jokes — the mischief has a cost, however small, and the pig wears it home.