官法佛法 The Magistrate's Law and the Buddha's
菩薩道:「古人云,『若要有前程,莫做沒前程。』你既上界違法,今又不改兇心,傷生造孽,卻不是二罪俱罰?」那怪道:「前程,前程,若依你,教我喝風?常言道:『依著官法打殺,依著佛法餓殺。』去也,去也,還不如捉個行人,肥膩膩的吃他家娘,管甚麼二罪三罪,千罪萬罪!」菩薩道:「『人有善願,天必從之。』汝若肯歸依正果,自有養身之處。世有五穀,可以濟饑,為何吃人度日?」菩萨道:「古人云,『若要有前程,莫做没前程。』你既上界违法,今又不改凶心,伤生造孽,却不是二罪俱罚?」那怪道:「前程,前程,若依你,教我喝风?常言道:『依着官法打杀,依着佛法饿杀。』去也,去也,还不如捉个行人,肥腻腻的吃他家娘,管甚么二罪三罪,千罪万罪!」菩萨道:「『人有善愿,天必从之。』汝若肯归依正果,自有养身之处。世有五谷,可以济饥,为何吃人度日?」
逐句解 Line by line
The Bodhisattva said: "The ancients say, 'If you would have a future, do nothing that forfeits a future.'
A proverb about consequences: what you do now decides what you get later. 前程 is your prospects, the road out in front of you.
You broke the law in the upper realm, and now, unrepentant of your savage heart, you harm life and pile up sin — is this not crime to be doubly punished?"
In 不改 the 不 keeps bù before the dipping tone of 改; in 不是 it takes bú before 是.
The monster said: "A future, a future! If I did as you say, would you have me feed on wind?
喝風 is to drink wind, meaning to have nothing to eat. Modern Chinese still says it, with a direction added: drinking the northwest wind is what you do at the end of the month when the money has gone.
As the common saying goes: 'Follow the magistrate's law and be beaten to death; follow the Buddha's law and be starved to death.'
Here is the best line in the chapter, and it is a piece of peasant cynicism: follow the magistrate's law and you get beaten to death, follow the Buddha's law and you starve to death. Both laws kill you; only the method differs. 依著 is following or according to, with the ongoing-action 著 read zhe.
Away, away! Better to catch a traveler and eat him, fat and greasy, than to mind your 'double crime, triple crime, a thousand crimes, ten thousand crimes'!"
還 is the adverb hái; in 不如 the 不 keeps bù before the rising tone of 如. He piles the crimes up himself — double, triple, a thousand, ten thousand — to show how little the arithmetic weighs against one hot meal.
The Bodhisattva said: "'If a man has a good wish, Heaven will surely grant it.'
She answers his fatalism with a maxim of her own: mean well and Heaven will meet you halfway.
If you will take refuge in the right fruit, you shall have the means to nourish yourself.
處 is chù. 養身之處 offers him a living, not a doctrine. The argument that actually converts the boar is a practical one, and the text makes no effort to dress it up.
The world has the five grains to relieve hunger; why live by eating men?"
五穀 are the five staple grains. 為何 is why, 為 read wèi. Her clinching argument is that rice exists.
This short exchange is the sharpest writing in the chapter, because it is an actual argument rather than a surrender. The boar resists not out of defiance but out of a kind of peasant despair, and he puts it in a jingle: 依著官法打殺,依著佛法餓殺 — obey the magistrate and be beaten dead, obey the Buddha and be starved dead. Either law is a death sentence. He is not being wicked; he is being realistic.
Guanyin meets fatalism with providence. Against the proverb that crime invites doubled punishment she sets another — 人有善願,天必從之, mean well and Heaven will follow — and then dissolves his false choice with something entirely practical: there are five grains in the world, so you need not eat people. The theology comes down to the level of a hungry animal's next meal, and that is where it wins.
Yu reads the passage as the novel's central argument about reform, staged in miniature. Plaks finds Bajie's resistance the most humanly persuasive of any disciple's, the voice of ordinary appetite and ordinary hopelessness — which is exactly what makes Guanyin's patient answer, and his eventual yielding, worth something.