約有三盞 About Three Cupfuls In All
那老龍在半空運化津涎,不離了王宮前後。將有一個時辰,龍王辭了大聖回海。眾臣將杯盂碗盞收來,也有等著一點兩點者,也有等著三點五點者,也有一點不曾等著者,共合一處,約有三盞之多,總獻至御案。真個是異香滿襲金鑾殿,佳味熏飄天子庭。那老龙在半空运化津涎,不离了王宫前后。将有一个时辰,龙王辞了大圣回海。众臣将杯盂碗盏收来,也有等着一点两点者,也有等着三点五点者,也有一点不曾等着者,共合一处,约有三盏之多,总献至御案。真个是异香满袭金銮殿,佳味熏飘天子庭。
逐句解 Line by line
The old dragon worked his spittle in mid-air and did not leave the neighbourhood of the palace.
運化 is alchemical language — the working and transforming of a substance — used here without comment about a dragon spitting. 化 stays huà.
After the best part of two hours the Dragon King took his leave of the Great Sage and went back to his ocean.
A 時辰 is a double hour, one twelfth of a day, so this is the best part of two modern hours. 將 here is jiāng in the sense of approaching or about.
The ministers gathered in the cups and basins and bowls and saucers. Some had caught a drop or two, some three drops or five, and some had not caught a single drop; put all together it came to about three cupfuls, and the whole was presented at the royal desk.
Somebody counted the drops. The three grades of failure are set out as though in a report. 著 is zháo at all three occurrences here — the reading that means managing to do a thing, as against the zhe of holding a bowl out a moment ago.
Truly, a strange fragrance filled the Golden Chime Hall, and a fine savour drifted through the courtyard of the Son of Heaven.
Another balanced pair that reads as verse and is set as prose. It even carries 真個是, the tag a poem usually gets — but the edition puts no colon after it and indents nothing, so the tag alone does not make it a poem. What is being praised in this high style is a bowl of spit. 子 is the full zǐ in 天子, Son of Heaven.
The dragon works the best part of two hours and goes home, and then comes the accounting: some caught a drop or two, some three or five, and some caught nothing at all. The entire yield of a mobilised court is about three cupfuls.
The tally is done perfectly seriously, which is what makes it funny. Somebody counted the drops. Three grades of failure are set out as though in a report, and the total is carried to the royal desk with full ceremony.
Then a couplet — a strange fragrance filling the throne hall, a fine savour drifting through the courtyard of the Son of Heaven. It reads as verse and even carries a verse's tag, but the edition sets it as prose, so prose it stays. What is being praised in this high style is a bowl of spit.