齋筵飽噇 The Glutton at the Feast
那和尚與老者一問一答的講話,眾人方才不怕。卻將上面排了一張桌,請唐僧上坐;兩邊擺了三張桌,請他三位坐;前面一張桌,坐了二位老者。先排上素果品菜蔬,然後是麵飯、米飯、閑食、粉湯,排得齊齊整整。唐長老舉起箸來,先念一卷《啟齋經》。那獃子一則有些急吞,二來有些餓了,那裡等唐僧經完,拿過紅漆木碗來,把一碗白米飯撲的丟下口去,就了了。傍邊小的道:「這位老爺忒沒算計,不籠饅頭,怎的把飯籠了,卻不污了衣服?」八戒笑道:「不曾籠,吃了。」小的道:「你不曾舉口,怎麼就吃了?」八戒道:「兒子們便說謊,分明吃了;不信,再吃與你看。」那小的們又端了碗,盛一碗遞與八戒。獃子幌一幌,又丟下口去就了了。眾僮僕見了道:「爺爺呀!你是磨磚砌的喉嚨,著實又光又溜。」那唐僧一卷經還未完,他已五六碗過手了。然後卻才同舉箸,一齊吃齋。獃子不論米飯麵飯、果品閑食,只情一撈,亂噇,口裡還嚷:「添飯,添飯。」漸漸不見來了。行者叫道:「賢弟,少吃些罷,也強似在山凹裡忍餓,將就夠得半飽也好了。」八戒道:「嘴臉。常言道:『齋僧不飽,不如活埋』哩。」行者教:「收了家火,莫睬他。」二老者躬身道:「不瞞老爺說,白日裡倒也不怕,似這大肚子長老,也齋得起百十眾。只是晚了,收了殘齋,只蒸得一石麵飯、五斗米飯與幾桌素食,要請幾個親鄰與眾僧們散福。不期你列位來,諕得眾僧跑了,連親鄰也不曾敢請,盡數都供奉了列位。如不飽,再教蒸去。」八戒道:「再蒸去,再蒸去。」那和尚与老者一问一答的讲话,众人方才不怕。却将上面排了一张桌,请唐僧上坐;两边摆了三张桌,请他三位坐;前面一张桌,坐了二位老者。先排上素果品菜蔬,然后是面饭、米饭、闲食、粉汤,排得齐齐整整。唐长老举起箸来,先念一卷《启斋经》。那呆子一则有些急吞,二来有些饿了,那里等唐僧经完,拿过红漆木碗来,把一碗白米饭扑的丢下口去,就了了。傍边小的道:「这位老爷忒没算计,不笼馒头,怎的把饭笼了,却不污了衣服?」八戒笑道:「不曾笼,吃了。」小的道:「你不曾举口,怎么就吃了?」八戒道:「儿子们便说谎,分明吃了;不信,再吃与你看。」那小的们又端了碗,盛一碗递与八戒。呆子幌一幌,又丢下口去就了了。众僮仆见了道:「爷爷呀!你是磨砖砌的喉咙,着实又光又溜。」那唐僧一卷经还未完,他已五六碗过手了。然后却才同举箸,一齐吃斋。呆子不论米饭面饭、果品闲食,只情一捞,乱噇,口里还嚷:「添饭,添饭。」渐渐不见来了。行者叫道:「贤弟,少吃些罢,也强似在山凹里忍饿,将就够得半饱也好了。」八戒道:「嘴脸。常言道:『斋僧不饱,不如活埋』哩。」行者教:「收了家火,莫睬他。」二老者躬身道:「不瞒老爷说,白日里倒也不怕,似这大肚子长老,也斋得起百十众。只是晚了,收了残斋,只蒸得一石面饭、五斗米饭与几桌素食,要请几个亲邻与众僧们散福。不期你列位来,諕得众僧跑了,连亲邻也不曾敢请,尽数都供奉了列位。如不饱,再教蒸去。」八戒道:「再蒸去,再蒸去。」
逐句解 Line by line
As the monk and the old men talked back and forth, question and answer, the household folk at last left off their fear.
一問一答 — one asks, one answers — is the sound of a room calming down. Watching two old men chat politely with a monk, the household finally stops being frightened. 那 points — nà.
At the head they set out a table and invited the Tang Monk to the seat of honor;
將 is jiāng, the helper word swinging the object forward. 上坐 is the seat at the head, and the seating plan that follows is a small diagram of rank: master above, disciples down the sides, hosts in front.
on either side they laid three tables and seated his three companions;
Three tables for three disciples, one each. Somebody has thought about elbow room.
and at a table in front sat the two old men.
And the two brothers at the front, facing their guests.
First they brought out vegetarian fruits and greens, then noodles and rice, side-dishes and bean-flour broth, all set out neat and trim.
The menu, in the order it arrives: fruit and greens first, then 麵飯 noodles and 米飯 rice, 閑食 the odds and ends between courses, and 粉湯, a broth with bean-flour noodles in it. 排得齊齊整整 takes 得 as de, the link to how it turned out — laid out neat and square.
The Tang elder took up his chopsticks and first recited a scroll of the Grace-Before-Meat Sutra.
箸 is the older word for chopsticks. The 啟齋經 is the short scripture said to open a meal — grace before meat, and mercifully brief in most houses. 長 in 唐長老 is zhǎng. Not brief enough, as it turns out.
The blockhead — for one thing given to bolting his food, for another half-starved — was in no mood to wait for Tripitaka to finish; he seized a red-lacquered wooden bowl, tipped a whole bowl of white rice down his gullet with a plop, and it was gone.
Two reasons are offered and neither is an excuse: 急吞, a bolter by temperament, and 餓了, hungry as well. 那裡等 is asking, not pointing — nǎ — and it is the narrator being sarcastic: as if he would wait. Then a bowl of white rice goes down 撲的, with a plop, and 就了了 — 了 read liǎo, finished, followed by 了 read le, the little marker saying it has happened. One character, twice, two readings, and the rice is gone. 那獃子 points — nà.
A young servant at his side said: "This reverend has no notion of thrift — instead of stowing away the steamed buns, he stows away the rice; won't he soil his robe?"
Here is the joke, and it needs one fact: a Ming gown had wide sleeves, and people carried things in them. 籠 is to stow something away up your sleeve. The servant has not seen the rice eaten, only vanish, so he assumes it has been pocketed — and reproaches the reverend gentleman for pocketing loose rice rather than buns, which will make a mess of his robe. 傍邊 takes 傍 as páng.
Eight Rules laughed: "I stowed nothing away — I ate it."
不曾籠: I didn't pocket it. Bajie is enjoying himself.
The servant said: "You never raised it to your lips — how could you have eaten it?"
不曾舉口 — never raised it to your mouth. The boy is not being rude; he genuinely did not see a mouth open.
Eight Rules said: "Sonny-boys, don't tell tales — I plainly ate it;
兒子們 is Bajie calling the servants "sonny," a cheerful insult he uses whenever he is winning. The 兒 is ér, the character in its own right meaning child, not the little -r ending. 分明: plain as day.
if you doubt it, I'll eat another for you to watch."
再吃與你看: I'll eat another one for you to watch. The demonstration is offered as proof, and works out well for everyone except the kitchen.
The young servants brought another bowl, filled it, and handed it to Eight Rules.
They bring the bowl. Of course they do. 那 points — nà.
The blockhead gave it a flick, tipped it down his gullet, and again it was gone.
幌一幌 is a quick flick of the wrist, and then 就了了 again — the same liǎo-then-le pair, and the same result. The repetition is the comedy: the second bowl goes exactly like the first, and nobody sees it happen this time either.
The serving-boys, seeing it, exclaimed: "Good heavens!
爺爺呀 is the shout of somebody who has just watched a physical law fail — near enough "good grief."
Your throat must be laid of polished brick — truly smooth and slick."
The best line in the passage, and the servants get it: 磨磚砌的喉嚨, a throat laid up out of polished brick, 又光又溜 — smooth and slick. The image is a builder's. They are describing his gullet as masonry. 著實 takes 著 as zhuó, "truly."
Tripitaka's one scroll of sutra was not yet done, and already he had put away five or six bowls.
The measurement that makes the scene: one scroll of scripture against five or six bowls of rice. 那 points — nà; 還未完 takes 還 as hái, "not yet."
Only then did they take up their chopsticks together and eat the meal as one.
然後卻才 — only then, and not before — is the narrator dwelling on it. 同舉箸: chopsticks up together, as though the meal were only now starting.
The blockhead, rice or noodles, fruit or side-dish, all alike, just scooped and gorged without measure, still bawling: "More rice, more rice!"
只情一撈 is scooping away with no thought for anything else; 噇 is chuáng, a coarse word for stuffing food in. Rice, noodles, fruit, side dishes, all one to him — and he is shouting for more with his mouth full. 還 is hái.
Little by little the food stopped coming.
漸漸不見來了: little by little, nothing more came. A quiet sentence doing a great deal of work. They have run out of food.
Pilgrim called out: "Worthy brother, eat a little less — even this is far better than starving in the mountain-hollow; make do, and if you reach half-full, that will serve."
強似 takes 強 as qiáng, better than. Wukong's appeal is to memory, not manners: this beats going hungry in a mountain hollow, so settle for half full. 將就 takes 將 as jiāng; 夠得半飽 takes 得 as de; 罷 is ba, softening the request.
Eight Rules said: "The cheek of it!
嘴臉 thrown back as a retort — near enough "the cheek of it."
As the saying goes: 'To feast a monk and leave him unfilled is worse than burying him alive.'"
And he has a proverb ready: 齋僧不飽,不如活埋 — to feast a monk and leave him short is worse than burying him alive. The edition marks it as a quotation, and the sentence ends on 哩, li, the light word that lets a speaker rest his case. Bajie has produced a saying that makes his own greed a point of religious principle.
Pilgrim ordered: "Clear away the things and pay him no mind."
家火 is the kitchen gear, pots and dishes together. 莫睬他: take no notice. 教 is jiào.
The two old men bowed and said: "To be honest with you, reverend, by daylight we should not be afraid — even a big-bellied elder like this we could feast, a hundred or more of him.
The hosts are mortified, and their apology is the sweetest thing in the scene: by daylight we could have fed a hundred of him. 倒 is dào, the "on the contrary" reading; 長 in 長老 is zhǎng; 齋得起 takes 得 as de — could afford to feed.
But it is late, and the leftover feast is cleared; we have steamed only one dàn of flour-rice, five dǒu of rice, and a few tables of vegetarian fare, meaning to invite some kin and neighbors and the monks to share the blessing-food.
The larder, counted out — and 石 is not a stone here. Read shí it is rock, the cobble Bajie dropped in the river earlier in the chapter and the slab of the stele; read dàn, as here, it is the largest of the old dry measures for grain, and that is the reading the ruby gives it at this one site out of six in the chapter. So: one dàn of noodle-flour food and five dǒu of rice. 石 and 斗 are two rungs of the same ladder, ten 斗 to the 石 and ten 升 to the 斗 — the same 升 the old man counted out at the gate. A Ming 斗 held about ten litres, which makes this a great deal of food, and Bajie has eaten most of it. 散福 is sharing out the blessed leftovers of a rite among neighbours, which is what the whole spread was for. 只蒸得 takes 得 as dé; and because dàn falls, the 一 in front of it shifts to yí.
We did not look for you gentlemen to come; the monks were frightened off, and we dared not even invite the kin and neighbors, so the whole of it has been served up to you.
And the guests have eaten the neighbours' share. 不期 is "we never expected"; 盡數都 takes 數 as shù and 都 as dōu — the whole lot, served up to you. 諕得 takes 諕 as xià and 得 as de.
If you are still not filled, we shall have more steamed."
再教蒸去: we'll have more steamed. 教 is jiào. It is offered out of pure courtesy.
Eight Rules said: "Steam more, steam more!"
And taken at once, twice over, with no courtesy at all.
The comic centre of the chapter is Bajie at dinner, and the book gives it room. He cannot sit through grace; he tips a full bowl of white rice down his throat 撲的, with a plop, before Tripitaka has finished the first scroll. A servant, who saw the rice go but never saw a mouth open, assumes it has gone up his sleeve — Ming gowns were pockets — and scolds him for stowing loose rice instead of buns. So Bajie eats a second bowl as evidence, which settles nothing and delights everybody, and the serving-boys deliver the verdict the scene is remembered for: his throat must be laid up out of polished brick, 又光又溜, smooth and slick. By the time the scripture ends he has put away five or six bowls, and only then do the others pick up their chopsticks.
Underneath the farce the passage keeps its proportions human. The two old men apologise, and the apology is a small inventory of an ordinary household: it is late, the feast has been picked over, and all that is left steamed is one dàn of noodle-flour food and five dǒu of rice, meant for kin and neighbours who were to come and share the blessing-food of the rite. Nobody came, because the guests frightened the monks off, so the whole of it has gone to four strangers. That last detail — 連親鄰也不曾敢請, we dared not even invite the neighbours — is the first cold draught in the chapter. The hosts are generous, apologetic, and afraid, and only the third of those has been explained.