Canonical Classics ← 第五十七回
第五十七回
zhēnxíngzhěluòqiéshān
jiǎhóuwángshuǐliándòngténgwén

The True Pilgrim Lays His Grievance at Mount Potalaka · The False Monkey King Copies Out the Rescript at the Water-Curtain Cave

滿滿一缽
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

滿滿一缽 A Bowlful of Crusted Rice

hǎodāiziniǎnzhejuéniànzhòushēnyáoleyáobiànzuòshíláobìnghuángpàngshàngkǒuhēnghēngdeāijìnménqiánjiàodào:「shīzhǔchúzhōngyǒushèngfànshàngyǒurénpínsēngshìdōngláiwǎng西tiānjīngdeshīzàilejiāzhōngyǒuguōlěngfànqiānwànhuàxiēerjiùkǒu。」yuánláijiāzinánrénzàidōuchāyāngzhònglezhǐyǒuliǎngrénzàijiāzhèngcáizhǔlefànchéngliǎngpénquèshōushísòngxiàtiánguōháiyǒuxiēfànguōwèicéngchénglerénjiànzhèděngbìngróngquèyòushuōdōngwǎng西tiāndehuàzhǐkǒngshìbìnghūnleshuōyòudiēdǎozàiménshǒuzhǐhǒnghǒngjiāngxiēshèngfànguō滿mǎn滿mǎndeledāizizhuǎnláixiànleběnxiàngjìnghuíjiùhǎodāiziniǎnzhejuéniànzhòushēnyáoleyáobiànzuòshíláobìnghuángpàngshàngkǒuhēnghēngdeāijìnménqiánjiàodào:「shīzhǔchúzhōngyǒushèngfànshàngyǒurénpínsēngshìdōngláiwǎng西tiānjīngdeshīzàilejiāzhōngyǒuguōlěngfànqiānwànhuàxiēerjiùkǒu。」yuánláijiāzinánrénzàidōuchāyāngzhònglezhǐyǒuliǎngrénzàijiāzhèngcáizhǔlefànchéngliǎngpénquèshōushísòngxiàtiánguōháiyǒuxiēfànguōwèicéngchénglerénjiànzhèděngbìngróngquèyòushuōdōngwǎng西tiāndehuàzhǐkǒngshìbìnghūnleshuōyòudiēdǎozàiménshǒuzhǐhǒnghǒngjiāngxiēshèngfànguōmǎnmǎndeledāizizhuǎnláixiànleběnxiàngjìnghuíjiù


逐句解 Line by line

hǎodāiziniǎnzhejuéniànzhòushēnyáoleyáobiànzuòshíláobìnghuángpàngshàngkǒuhēnghēngdeāijìnménqiánjiàodào:「shīzhǔchúzhōngyǒushèngfànshàngyǒurén hǎodāiziniǎnzhejuéniànzhòushēnyáoleyáobiànzuòshíláobìnghuángpàngshàngkǒuhēnghēngdeāijìnménqiánjiàodào:「shīzhǔchúzhōngyǒushèngfànshàngyǒurén

Fine Idiot! He pinched the finger-sign, recited a spell, gave his body seven or eight shakes, and turned into a monk sallow and bloated with a wasting sickness; and moaning and whimpering he edged up to the door and called: “Benefactor, there is rice left over in your kitchen, and there is a hungry man on the road.

The disguise, in seven or eight shakes. 哼哼唧唧 is a sound-word -- moaning and whimpering -- and sound-words keep their ordinary readings here, since no dictionary records a special one; the after it is the written where a modern text would write , turning the phrase into a description of how he moves. 挨近 takes at its fixed āi, to edge up to. 捻著 is the held-in-progress , zhe -- the finger-sign pinched and kept pinched.

pínsēngshìdōngláiwǎng西tiānjīngde pínsēngshìdōngláiwǎng西tiānjīngde

“This poor monk has come from the Land of the East and goes west to fetch scriptures.

貧僧 -- "this poor monk" -- is the standard humble first person for a monk, and it is Tripitaka's own formula. Bajie is wearing somebody else's face and speaking in his master's voice.

shīzàilejiāzhōngyǒuguōlěngfànqiānwànhuàxiēerjiùkǒu。」 shīzàilejiāzhōngyǒuguōlěngfànqiānwànhuàxiēerjiùkǒu。」

“My master is famished and parched on the road. If there is crusted rice or cold rice in the house, I beg you spare a little to save a mouth.”

鍋巴 is the crust of scorched rice stuck to the bottom of the pot: the poorest thing in any kitchen, which is exactly what makes the request modest enough to be granted. 些兒 takes the ending er.

yuánláijiāzinánrénzàidōuchāyāngzhòngle yuánláijiāzinánrénzàidōuchāyāngzhòngle

As it happened the men of that household were away; they had all gone off to transplant the seedlings and sow the grain.

The household is sketched in one clause and every stroke is practical. 種穀 takes as the verb "to sow", zhòng, not the noun zhǒng meaning seed or kind that an automatic reading supplies. 那家子 takes as the worn-down ending, zi.

zhǐyǒuliǎngrénzàijiāzhèngcáizhǔlefànchéngliǎngpénquèshōushísòngxiàtiánguōháiyǒuxiēfànguōwèicéngchéngle zhǐyǒuliǎngrénzàijiāzhèngcáizhǔlefànchéngliǎngpénquèshōushísòngxiàtiánguōháiyǒuxiēfànguōwèicéngchéngle

There were only two women at home. They had just cooked the midday meal and ladled out two basins of it, and were making ready to carry it down to the fields; there was still some rice and some crust in the pot that had not yet been ladled out.

twice, both chéng -- to ladle or fill into a vessel -- against an automatic reading that supplies the shèng of "abundant" at both. The character sat in no guard list until this stretch and was caught by hand. It genuinely does take shèng twice more later in the chapter, so both readings are licensed and the sense has to decide each time.

rénjiànzhèděngbìngróngquèyòushuōdōngwǎng西tiāndehuàzhǐkǒngshìbìnghūnleshuōyòudiēdǎozàiménshǒu rénjiànzhèděngbìngróngquèyòushuōdōngwǎng西tiāndehuàzhǐkǒngshìbìnghūnleshuōyòudiēdǎozàiménshǒu

The women saw how sick he looked, and heard him talking besides of coming from the East and going to the West, and feared he might be raving in a fever, or fall down and die at their door.

Their reasoning is given plainly and it is not piety. 跌倒 is the toppling , dǎo. 病昏了胡說 -- raving in a fever -- is what they think they are hearing; what they are afraid of is a body on the doorstep.

zhǐhǒnghǒngjiāngxiēshèngfànguō滿mǎn滿mǎndele zhǐhǒnghǒngjiāngxiēshèngfànguōmǎnmǎndele

So they bustled and fussed, took the leftover rice and crust, and gave him a brimming bowlful.

哄哄翕翕 is a sound-word for flustered bustling and keeps its ordinary readings. 滿滿的 is again standing in for , describing how the bowl is filled. 只得 takes at : they give because there is no comfortable way not to.

dāizizhuǎnláixiànleběnxiàngjìnghuíjiù dāizizhuǎnláixiànleběnxiàngjìnghuíjiù

The Idiot carried it back, resumed his own shape, and went straight along the old road.

現了本像 undoes the whole transformation in four characters, with no comment at all. The disguise was a tool and it is dropped the instant it has worked.


總評 Commentary

This is one of the small domestic scenes the novel does better than almost anything else. The household is drawn in a few strokes and every stroke is practical: the men are out transplanting rice, the women have cooked and portioned the midday meal, the pot is not yet empty. Nothing supernatural happens and the passage is the better for it.

The women's reasoning is the sharpest touch. They do not give out of piety, and the text says so -- they think the sick monk may be delirious, and they are afraid he will collapse and die at their door. The charity is real and the motive is self-protective, and the novel records both without a word of comment.

The bargain is worth totting up. Bajie asked for the poorest thing in the kitchen, in a borrowed body, in his master's own humble phrasing, and got a brimming bowl of it. Every part of the errand works. Hold that against the cheerfulness of the passage that follows, because the man it was all done for has been lying face down in the road since before Bajie knocked.