丹盤試坐 Rehearsing on the Lacquer Trays
好大聖,吩咐沙僧保護唐僧:「我變作陳關保,八戒變作一秤金。」二人俱停當了,卻問:「怎麼供獻?還是綑了去,是綁了去?蒸熟了去,是剁碎了去?」八戒道:「哥哥,莫要弄我,我沒這個手段。」老者道:「不敢,不敢。只是用兩個紅漆丹盤,請二位坐在盤內,放在桌上,著兩個後生擡一張桌子,把你們擡上廟去。」行者道:「好好好,拿盤子出來,我們試試。」那老者即取出兩個丹盤,行者與八戒坐上。四個後生擡起兩張桌子,往天井裡走走兒,又擡回放在堂上。行者歡喜道:「八戒,像這般子走走耍耍,我們也是上臺盤的和尚了。」八戒道:「若是擡了去,還擡回來,兩頭擡到天明,我也不怕。只是擡到廟裡,就要吃哩,這個卻不是耍子!」行者道:「你只看著我,剗著吃我時,你就走了罷。」八戒道:「知他怎麼吃哩?如先吃童男,我便好跑;如先吃童女,我卻如何?」老者道:「常年祭賽時,我這裡有膽大的鑽在廟後,或在供桌底下,看見他先吃童男,後吃童女。」八戒道:「造化,造化。」好大圣,吩咐沙僧保护唐僧:「我变作陈关保,八戒变作一秤金。」二人俱停当了,却问:「怎么供献?还是捆了去,是绑了去?蒸熟了去,是剁碎了去?」八戒道:「哥哥,莫要弄我,我没这个手段。」老者道:「不敢,不敢。只是用两个红漆丹盘,请二位坐在盘内,放在桌上,着两个后生抬一张桌子,把你们抬上庙去。」行者道:「好好好,拿盘子出来,我们试试。」那老者即取出两个丹盘,行者与八戒坐上。四个后生抬起两张桌子,往天井里走走儿,又抬回放在堂上。行者欢喜道:「八戒,像这般子走走耍耍,我们也是上台盘的和尚了。」八戒道:「若是抬了去,还抬回来,两头抬到天明,我也不怕。只是抬到庙里,就要吃哩,这个却不是耍子!」行者道:「你只看着我,刬着吃我时,你就走了罢。」八戒道:「知他怎么吃哩?如先吃童男,我便好跑;如先吃童女,我却如何?」老者道:「常年祭赛时,我这里有胆大的钻在庙后,或在供桌底下,看见他先吃童男,后吃童女。」八戒道:「造化,造化。」
逐句解 Line by line
The Great Sage then charged Sha Monk to guard the Tang Monk: "I have become Chen Guanbao, and Eight Rules has become One-Steelyard-of-Gold."
吩咐 is giving orders to somebody under you — Sha Monk gets the guard duty, as he almost always does. And the disposition is stated flatly, as though it were a rota: I am Chen Guanbao, Eight Rules is One-Steelyard-of-Gold.
The two of them being now in readiness, he asked: "How are we to be presented?
停當了 takes 當 as dàng, in order, settled — not the dāng of "ought." 供獻: to offer up. And then Wukong asks the caterer's question.
Are we to go bound, or go trussed?
綑 and 綁 are both binding with rope, the first bundling, the second trussing. 還 is hái.
Steamed through first, or chopped into bits?"
蒸熟了去, steamed through — or 剁碎了去, chopped into bits. Wukong is asking his hosts, with perfect courtesy, how they would like their children prepared. It is deadpan of a very high order, and there is one person in the room not enjoying it.
Eight Rules said: "Brother, don't play with me — I have no stomach for that."
莫要弄我: stop playing with me. 手段 is usually the skill to do a thing; here it is the nerve to have it done to you.
The old man said: "We should not presume, we should not presume.
不敢,不敢 — we would not presume. The old man is flustered into pure etiquette by a question he has never been asked.
Only we use two red-lacquered cinnabar trays: we ask the two of you to sit within them, set them on a table, and have two young men carry the table up to the shrine with you on it."
And the answer, when it comes, is oddly gentle: two red-lacquered 丹盤 — 丹 being cinnabar red — with a child sitting on each, set on a table, and four young men to carry it up to the shrine. Nobody is bound; nobody is cut. The village has arranged its child-sacrifice to look as much as possible like a banquet being served, which is either mercy or self-deception and probably both. 著兩個後生擡 takes 著 as zhuó, to set somebody to a task — a different job from the zhe of an action in progress. 後生 is a young fellow.
Pilgrim said: "Good, good, good — fetch out the trays and let us try them."
好好好: right, right, right — fetch them out, let's try. Wukong wants a rehearsal.
The old man at once brought out two cinnabar trays, and Pilgrim and Eight Rules sat up on them.
And gets one. 那 points — nà.
Four young men lifted the two tables and took a turn out into the courtyard, then carried them back and set them down in the hall.
天井 is the small open court a Chinese house is built round — a "sky well." Four young men carry the tables out into it, take a turn, and bring them back. In 走走兒 the 兒 is the little -r ending, er, on a doubled verb: a little walk, a turn about.
Pilgrim said gleefully: "Eight Rules, with a bit of walking and playing about like this, we are monks who have come up on the banquet-tray!"
And here is the pun the whole rehearsal was for. 上臺盤 — to come up onto the ceremonial tray — is a colloquial way of saying somebody has risen in the world, made it into decent company; the negative form of the same phrase is what you say of someone you cannot take anywhere. Wukong, who is at that moment literally sitting on a tray, announces that they have become monks who have come up on the tray. It is the joke the whole rehearsal was built for, and he is delighted with it.
Eight Rules said: "If we were carried out and carried back again, carried to and fro till daybreak, I should not mind.
兩頭 is both ends, to and fro. Bajie would happily be carried back and forth till daybreak, and says so — he has no objection whatever to the transport. 還 is hái, "back again."
But being carried into the shrine, where we are straightway to be eaten — that is no sport at all!"
這個卻不是耍子: *that* is no game. He throws Wukong's own word back at him. 哩 is li.
Pilgrim said: "Just keep your eye on me: if it comes to his eating me, then off you go."
剗著 — 剗 read chǎn — is the vernacular "if, supposing that," with 著 hooking the clause on; and 看著我 takes 著 as zhe, an action in progress. Keep your eye on me, and if it comes to him eating me, run. It is offered as reassurance. 罷 is ba.
Eight Rules said: "Who knows how he eats them?
知他怎麼吃哩: who knows how he goes about it? Bajie has moved on to logistics. 哩 is li.
If he eats the boy first, then I can make a good run for it;
If the boy goes first, he has time to bolt.
but if he eats the girl first, what then becomes of me?"
And if the girl goes first — 我卻如何, what then becomes of me? The horror of the situation reaches Bajie strictly through his own position in the queue, which is exactly right for him.
The old man said: "In the years of the sacrifice, some bold fellows among us have crept in behind the shrine, or under the offering-table, and seen that he eats the boy first and the girl after."
The old man's answer is the coldest detail in the chapter, and it is offered helpfully. 常年, in the ordinary run of years, 膽大的, the bold ones among us, have hidden 在廟後 behind the shrine or 在供桌底下 under the offering table, and watched. This village has eyewitness accounts. Somebody crouched under a table and watched a child be eaten and came home and told people the order.
Eight Rules said: "My luck, my luck!"
造化,造化 — my luck, my luck. Bajie is delighted, because as the girl he goes second. It is the last laugh in the chapter and it is built out of the information in the line above it.
The last comic movement of the chapter turns the machinery of human sacrifice into a rehearsal. Wukong opens with the caterer's questions — bound or trussed? steamed through, or chopped into bits? — asked of his hosts with perfect courtesy, and the old man is flustered into pure etiquette. The answer, when it comes, is unexpectedly gentle: two red-lacquered trays, a child sitting on each, a table, four young men. Nobody is tied and nobody is cut. The village has arranged its child-sacrifice to look as nearly as possible like dinner being carried in, which is either mercy or self-deception and is probably both.
So they try it out, and the tables go for a turn round the courtyard and come back, and Wukong produces his best joke of the night. 上臺盤, to come up onto the ceremonial tray, is ordinary slang for having risen in the world — and its negative is what you say of a man you cannot take anywhere. Sitting on an actual tray, he announces that they have gone up in the world at last. The victims are enjoying their own procession.
And Bajie, as ever, keeps the fear honest. He would not mind being carried to and fro till daybreak; it is the destination he objects to, and 這個卻不是耍子 — *that* is no game — throws Wukong's favourite word straight back at him. Then he asks about the order of service, and the old man answers with the coldest thing anybody says in this chapter: in the usual run of years the bold ones among us have hidden behind the shrine, or under the offering table, and watched, and the boy goes first. The village has eyewitness accounts. Out of which Bajie extracts the chapter's final laugh — 造化,造化, my luck, my luck — because as the girl, he is second. The comedy is balanced against the dread it is holding off, and the balance holds for exactly one more passage.