石匣藏僧 The Monk Shut in the Stone Coffer
那妖邪將三藏捉住,引群精徑回水府,厲聲高叫:「鱖妹何在?」老鱖婆迎門施禮道:「大王,不敢,不敢。」妖邪道:「賢妹何出此言?『一言既出,駟馬難追。』原說聽從汝計,捉了唐僧,與你拜為兄妹。今日果成妙計,捉了唐僧,就好昧了前言?」教:「小的們,擡過案桌,磨快刀來,把這和尚剖腹剜心,剝皮剮肉;一壁廂響動樂器:與賢妹共而食之,延壽長生也。」鱖婆道:「大王,且休吃他,恐他徒弟們尋來吵鬧。且寧耐兩日,讓那廝不來尋,然後剖開,請大王上坐,眾眷族環列,吹彈歌舞,奉上大王,從容自在享用,卻不好也?」那怪依言,把唐僧藏於宮後,使一個六尺長的石匣蓋在中間不題。那妖邪将三藏捉住,引群精径回水府,厉声高叫:「鳜妹何在?」老鳜婆迎门施礼道:「大王,不敢,不敢。」妖邪道:「贤妹何出此言?『一言既出,驷马难追。』原说听从汝计,捉了唐僧,与你拜为兄妹。今日果成妙计,捉了唐僧,就好昧了前言?」教:「小的们,抬过案桌,磨快刀来,把这和尚剖腹剜心,剥皮剐肉;一壁厢响动乐器:与贤妹共而食之,延寿长生也。」鳜婆道:「大王,且休吃他,恐他徒弟们寻来吵闹。且宁耐两日,让那厮不来寻,然后剖开,请大王上坐,众眷族环列,吹弹歌舞,奉上大王,从容自在享用,却不好也?」那怪依言,把唐僧藏于宫后,使一个六尺长的石匣盖在中间不题。
逐句解 Line by line
The fiend seized Tripitaka and led his crowd of spirits straight back to the water mansion, calling out in a harsh loud voice: 「Where is Sister Mandarin-Fish?」
那妖邪 is nà; 將 is jiāng; 三藏: 藏 is zàng.
The old Mandarin-Fish Dame came to the door and made her bow, saying: 「Great King, I dare not, I dare not.」
不敢 doubled is a set formula of self-deprecation — "I would not presume." She is declining the very honour she negotiated for, which is exactly how these things were done.
The fiend said: 「Worthy sister, why do you speak so?
賢妹, "worthy younger sister." He is already using the kinship word he promised.
『A word once out, four horses cannot overtake it.』
駟馬難追: 難 is nán. Say a word, and a team of four horses cannot overtake it. The proverb is Confucian in origin, and the speaker is a river-demon arranging to eat a monk.
It was agreed that if I followed your plan and took the Tang Monk I would bow with you as brother and sister.
拜為兄妹: 為 is wéi, the verb — as in the passage where the bargain was struck.
Today your excellent scheme has come off and the Tang Monk is taken — am I to go back on what I said?」
昧了前言, to darken one's earlier word: to go back on it.
He gave orders: 「Lads, carry in the table, whet the knives sharp, cut this monk's belly open and dig out the heart, flay off the skin and slice up the flesh;
教 is jiào. Four verbs of butchery in eight characters, and the novel softens none of them.
and on the other side strike up the music: my worthy sister and I will eat him together, and lengthen our years and live long.」
樂器: 樂 is yuè, "music" — not lè, "joy." 長生: 長 is cháng. 一壁廂 lifts 一 to yí before a falling tone.
The Dame said: 「Great King, do not eat him yet — I fear his disciples may come looking for him and make a disturbance.
She is the only one in the water mansion still thinking, exactly as she was when the plan was made.
Be patient a couple of days, and when that crew have given up the search, then cut him open. Let the Great King take the upper seat with all your kindred ranged about, with piping and strumming, singing and dancing, and let him be served up to the Great King to be enjoyed at leisure and at ease — would that not be better?」
那廝 is nà. 吹彈: 彈 is tán, "to pluck a string," not dàn, a pellet — the compound is wind and strings, a small band. 寧耐 is the same word as 寧奈, to bear patiently.
The monster took her advice, and hid the Tang Monk behind the palace, and had a stone coffer six chǐ long laid over him; of which no more.
那怪 is nà. 藏於宮後: 藏 is cáng, "to hide" — the chapter's single occurrence of that reading, against twenty-seven appearances of zàng in 三藏. One of those twenty-seven opens this very passage, some two hundred characters back. The character that spells the monk's name has become the verb for what is done to him. 六尺長: 長 is cháng, dimension. 石匣: 石 is shí, stone; 尺 stays as chǐ, so six of them make a box about the length of a man.
The scene in the water mansion is played, disconcertingly, as a comedy of manners. The demon comes home with his prize and immediately honours the contract: he calls for 鱖妹, sister Mandarin-Fish, and when she demurs he quotes the proverb about the word that four horses cannot overtake. He is a creature of his word. What he has given his word about is the division of a man's body.
The Dame's counsel is again the shrewd one, and again it is the reason the story can continue: do not eat him yet, wait until the disciples have given up searching, and then do it properly — the Great King in the upper seat, the kindred ranged around, pipes and strings and dancing. Her whole argument is about ceremony, and it buys Tripitaka the two days Chapter Forty-Nine needs.
The chapter's last image of its protagonist is one of the bleakest in the book. He is hidden behind the palace under a stone box six chǐ long — the dimensions of a grave — and the narration drops him there with 不題, of which no more. Note the character used for hiding him: 藏, read cáng, the same character that in 三藏 is his own name.