社稷變鐘 The Robe Made a Rag
三藏道:「徒弟,櫃中之物,如何得知?」行者斂祥光,還變作蟭蟟蟲,釘在唐僧頭上道:「師父放心,等我去看看來。」好大聖,輕輕飛到櫃上,爬在那櫃腳之下,見有一條板縫兒。他鑽將進去,見一個紅漆丹盤,內放一套宮衣,乃是山河社稷襖、乾坤地理裙。用手拿起來,抖亂了,咬破舌尖上,一口血哨噴將去,叫聲:「變!」即變作一件破爛流丟一口鐘。臨行又撒上一泡臊溺。卻還從板縫裡鑽出來,飛在唐僧耳朵上道:「師父,你只猜是破爛流丟一口鐘。」三藏道:「他教猜寶貝哩,流丟是件甚寶貝?」行者道:「莫管他,只猜著便是。」三藏道:「徒弟,柜中之物,如何得知?」行者敛祥光,还变作蟭蟟虫,钉在唐僧头上道:「师父放心,等我去看看来。」好大圣,轻轻飞到柜上,爬在那柜脚之下,见有一条板缝儿。他钻将进去,见一个红漆丹盘,内放一套宫衣,乃是山河社稷袄、干坤地理裙。用手拿起来,抖乱了,咬破舌尖上,一口血哨喷将去,叫声:「变!」即变作一件破烂流丢一口钟。临行又撒上一泡臊溺。却还从板缝里钻出来,飞在唐僧耳朵上道:「师父,你只猜是破烂流丢一口钟。」三藏道:「他教猜宝贝哩,流丢是件甚宝贝?」行者道:「莫管他,只猜着便是。」
逐句解 Line by line
Tripitaka said: "Disciple, the thing within the chest — how am I to know it?"
The master asks the obvious question, and it is worth noticing he asks it privately. 如何得知: 得 = dé, "how am I to come to know it?" 三藏: 藏 = zàng. 櫃中之物: 中 = zhōng.
The Pilgrim gathered in his auspicious light, changed once more into a gnat-fly, perched on the Tang Monk's head, and said: "Rest easy, Master; let me go and take a look."
Back into the gnat. 還 is hái, "once again" — this is the second time in the chapter and far from the last. 釘在 is to fix oneself in place like a driven nail, a nicely physical verb for an insect settling on a scalp. 去看看來: let me go have a look.
The good Great Sage flew lightly to the top of the chest, crept down beneath its foot, and found a chink between the boards.
板縫兒 — a chink between the boards, with the small 兒 = er ending that makes it a little crack rather than a gap. Sealing a chest is no defence against something the size of a gnat, and the whole three-round contest turns on that fact. 那櫃腳: 那 = nà.
He bored his way in, and saw a red-lacquered cinnabar tray, on which lay a set of palace robes — the Robe of Rivers, Hills, and the Altars of State, and the Skirt of Heaven, Earth, and the Compass of the Land.
What is in the chest is the queen's ceremonial dress, and the names are enormous: the 山河社稷襖, the robe of rivers and hills and the altars of state, and the 乾坤地理裙, the skirt of heaven, earth and the compass of the land. 乾 is qián here, the trigram name in 乾坤, heaven-and-earth — not the gān that means dry, which this chapter also uses. 鑽將進去: 將 = jiāng. A 丹盤 is a cinnabar-lacquered tray.
He took them up in his hand, shook them into a heap, bit open the tip of his tongue, blew a mouthful of blood-spray over them, and cried: "Change!"
The recipe for a transformation, in four moves: take it up, shake it out of shape, bite the tongue-tip, and spray the blood over it with a shout of 變. Blood from the tongue is standing equipment for this kind of magic. 血哨噴將去: 將 = jiāng.
At once they turned into a single ragged, dangling bell-cape.
A 一口鐘 is a sleeveless cloak that hangs in a bell shape from the shoulders — a poor monk's or labourer's garment, about as far from court dress as cloth gets. 破爛流丟 piles on the ruin: torn, and trailing in tatters. From the altars of the realm to a rag, in one breath.
As he left he loosed a puddle of stinking piss upon it besides.
And then he tops it off. 撒上一泡臊溺 — let fall a splash of rank piss. The novel does not flinch from this sort of thing, and the target matters: this is the emblem of the state being fouled, not just a garment. 臨行: 行 = xíng, on leaving.
Then he bored back out through the chink between the boards, flew to the Tang Monk's ear, and said: "Master, just guess it to be a ragged, dangling bell-cape."
還 = hái, back out the way he came, through the same 板縫. The scene is symmetrical on purpose — in through the crack, out through the crack, and the sealed chest none the wiser.
Tripitaka said: "He has us guess a treasure — what treasure is a dangling rag?"
Tripitaka's objection is the reasonable one and shows he has not yet grasped the game: 他教猜寶貝哩, they told us to guess a treasure. 教 = jiào; 哩 = li, the light ending that gives the line its grumbling tone. 甚 = shén, "what."
The Pilgrim said: "Never mind him — only guess it right and there's an end of it."
猜著便是: 著 = zháo again, hitting the mark. Never mind whether it is a treasure — just get it right and we are done.
Here the chapter's comic engine turns over for the first time. Wukong cannot know what is in the chest, so he does not bother trying: he goes inside and changes it, then tells his master what to say. What he finds is the queen's ceremonial dress under names of cosmic scale — 山河社稷, the rivers and hills and altars of the state, and 乾坤地理, heaven, earth and the compass of the land — and what he leaves is 破爛流丟一口鐘, a torn and trailing bell-cape, urinated on for good measure.
The joke has an edge a Ming reader would have felt in the ribs. To foul the regalia of the altars of state is, in miniature, to expose a kingdom that has handed its sacred emblems to a pair of charlatans. So the vandalism is not only slapstick; it is rough justice on Cart-Slow, the mind-monkey doing to a court's false grandeur exactly what he does to false grandeur everywhere on the road west.