誤飲河水 They Drink the River Water
三藏見那水清,一時口渴,便著八戒:「取缽盂,舀些水來我吃。」那獃子道:「我也正要些兒吃哩。」即取缽盂,舀了一缽,遞與師父。師父吃了有一少半,還剩了多半,獃子接來,一氣飲乾,卻伏侍三藏上馬。師徒們找路西行,不上半個時辰,那長老在馬上呻吟道:「腹痛。」八戒隨後道:「我也有些腹痛。」沙僧道:「想是吃冷水了。」說未畢,師父聲喚道:「疼的緊。」八戒也道:「疼得緊。」他兩個疼痛難禁,漸漸肚子大了。用手摸時,似有血團肉塊,不住的骨突骨突亂動。三藏正不穩便,忽然見那路傍有一村舍,樹梢頭挑著兩個草把。行者道:「師父,好了,那廂是個賣酒的人家。我們且去化他些熱湯與你吃,就問可有賣藥的,討貼藥,與你治治腹痛。」三藏见那水清,一时口渴,便着八戒:「取钵盂,舀些水来我吃。」那呆子道:「我也正要些儿吃哩。」即取钵盂,舀了一钵,递与师父。师父吃了有一少半,还剩了多半,呆子接来,一气饮干,却伏侍三藏上马。师徒们找路西行,不上半个时辰,那长老在马上呻吟道:「腹痛。」八戒随后道:「我也有些腹痛。」沙僧道:「想是吃冷水了。」说未毕,师父声唤道:「疼的紧。」八戒也道:「疼得紧。」他两个疼痛难禁,渐渐肚子大了。用手摸时,似有血团肉块,不住的骨突骨突乱动。三藏正不稳便,忽然见那路傍有一村舍,树梢头挑着两个草把。行者道:「师父,好了,那厢是个卖酒的人家。我们且去化他些热汤与你吃,就问可有卖药的,讨贴药,与你治治腹痛。」
逐句解 Line by line
Tripitaka, seeing how clear the water was and being thirsty just then, bade Eight Rules: "Fetch the almsbowl and scoop me up some water to drink."
著 is zhuó again, the reading it takes when it sends somebody off to do a job. The whole catastrophe turns on three characters — 那水清, the water was clear. Clarity is the only evidence Tripitaka consults, and it is exactly the evidence a dangerous river is under no obligation to withhold.
The idiot said, "I was just wanting a drop myself."
哩 closes the sentence and is read li, unstressed. 些兒 takes the little suffix er — just a drop. Bajie's eagerness here is what will make his case the worse of the two.
He took the almsbowl at once, scooped up a bowlful, and handed it to his master.
Three verbs, no comment. The pace changes sharply at this point: the leisurely descriptions are finished and the disaster is carried out in short clauses.
His master drank something less than half and left the greater part; the idiot took it from him and drained it at a draught, then helped Tripitaka to his saddle.
乾 is gān, dry — 飲乾 is to drink a thing dry — and not qián, the reading it takes as the name of a trigram. Watch the arithmetic. The master drinks rather less than half and the pig drains the rest at one pull, and their symptoms will be shared out in exactly that proportion.
Master and disciples found the road and travelled west; not half an hour later the elder groaned from horseback, "My belly aches."
不上半個時辰 is less than half a 時辰, and a 時辰 is a double hour — under an hour by our reckoning. The onset is quick enough to be unmistakable, which spares the story any scene of diagnosis.
Eight Rules said from behind, "I have some belly-ache too."
隨後 keeps him a pace behind his master, and that is where he stays for the whole sequence: always second to complain, always worse off.
Sha Monk said, "It will be from drinking cold water."
想是 offers the reasonable explanation, and it is wrong. Sha Monk's job in this novel is often to supply the sensible reading that the situation has already outrun.
Before he had finished, the master cried out, "It hurts badly!"
疼的緊 — the woodblock prints 的 where a modern text would put 得 to link the verb to how badly it is happening. The printed spelling is kept, and it happens to be read the same way, de. Hold that thought: the very next line prints the other one.
Eight Rules said too, "It hurts badly!"
疼得緊 — the same phrase in the same breath, spelled with 得 this time. The two spellings stand seven characters apart, and together they are the clearest evidence in the chapter that the block-printer treated 的 and 得 as one word.
The two of them could not endure the pain, and little by little their bellies grew large.
難禁 takes 禁 as jīn, to bear or endure, not jìn, to forbid. 漸漸…大了 delivers the revelation without naming it, and lets the reader arrive well before the characters do. 肚 is dù, the belly — the same character reads dǔ for tripe, which is not what is meant.
Feeling with their hands, they seemed to find clots of blood and lumps of flesh stirring ceaselessly, thump and thump.
骨突骨突 imitates something shifting about inside, and sound-words of this kind keep their ordinary readings. 似有 hedges the perception — they seemed to find — which is a good deal more unsettling than certainty would have been.
Tripitaka was in real distress when he suddenly saw, beside the road, a village cottage with two straw bundles hoisted on a pole at the top of a tree.
挑 is tiǎo here, to prop or hoist something on a pole, and not the tiāo of carrying a shoulder-load a few lines back. Two 草把 raised on a pole above a roof is the standard sign of a house that sells drink — the Ming equivalent of a pub sign — which is why Wukong reads it correctly in the next line.
Pilgrim said, "Master, good — that place yonder is a house that sells wine.
好了 registers relief, not approval. Wukong reads the straw sign at a distance, one of the small practical competences the story hands him again and again.
Let us go and beg a little hot broth of them for you, and ask at the same time whether there is any apothecary, and get a dose to treat your belly-ache."
化 is huà, to beg alms — the same verb used of the rice at the chapter's opening. 討貼藥 asks for a single made-up dose, the way one might ask a chemist for a sachet. The plan is entirely reasonable and entirely useless.
The disaster is executed at a speed that contrasts sharply with everything before it. Two long set-pieces and several hundred characters went on a boat and its keeper; the drinking of the water takes three short clauses, and the symptoms arrive within half a double hour. The novel has arranged its pacing so that a reader lulled by description is caught as flat-footed as the pilgrims are.
The shares are apportioned precisely, and the precision matters. Tripitaka drinks rather less than half; Bajie drains the remainder at a draught. The narrative records the fractions carefully because the punishment is about to be measured out in the same proportions. Bajie's eagerness is not incidental appetite here but the mechanism of his own affliction, which is how this novel almost always treats him: he is rarely punished for anything except wanting more than his share.
The revelation is managed by withholding the word. Bellies swell, hands feel clots and lumps stirring, and nobody says what is happening. Sha Monk blames cold water and is left uncorrected. A reader who has met the chapter title 懷鬼孕 and is now watching two men develop moving masses in their abdomens arrives at the answer well ahead of the characters, and that gap is the comic engine of the next several passages.
Wukong's practical response closes the passage and quietly restates the chapter's structural joke. He identifies a wine-shop by its straw sign, proposes hot broth and a dose from an apothecary, and is entirely competent and entirely wrong. No medicine touches this. The remedy will turn out to need a second journey, a second river and a fight — which is to say that the pilgrimage's ordinary machinery has to be brought to bear on a condition that ordinary machinery cannot reach.