Canonical Classics ← 第九十四回
第九十四回
sēngyànhuāyuán
guàikōnghuáiqíng

Four Monks Feast at Their Ease in the Royal Garden · A Single Monster Cherishes Her Longing to No Purpose

留春亭
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

留春亭 The Spring-Keeping Pavilion

guówángjiànchǒulòushuōhuàyòujiànniǔtóuniējǐngzuǐyáoěrduoxiàngyǒuxiēfēngyóukǒngjiǎoqīnshìzhǐcóng便biànjiào:「zàiyǒngzhènhuáānpáièrtóngzuòliúchūntíngshàngānpáisānqǐngsānwèibiézuòkǒngshīmenzuò便biàn。」dāizicáicháoshàngchàngjiàoshēng:「duōxiè。」ér退tuìyòuchuánzhǐjiàonèigōngguānpáiyànzhuósāngōngliùyuànhòufēigōngzhǔshàngtóujiùwèitiānzhuāngnuǎnzidàishíèrjiāpèijiāngyǒushíqiánhòuguówángpáijiàqǐngtángsēngdōudàohuāyuánnèiguānkànguówángjiànchǒulòushuōhuàyòujiànniǔtóuniējǐngzuǐyáoěrduoxiàngyǒuxiēfēngyóukǒngjiǎoqīnshìzhǐcóng便biànjiào:「zàiyǒngzhènhuáānpáièrtóngzuòliúchūntíngshàngānpáisānqǐngsānwèibiézuòkǒngshīmenzuò便biàn。」dāizicáicháoshàngchàngjiàoshēng:「duōxiè。」ér退tuìyòuchuánzhǐjiàonèigōngguānpáiyànzhuósāngōngliùyuànhòufēigōngzhǔshàngtóujiùwèitiānzhuāngnuǎnzidàishíèrjiāpèijiāngyǒushíqiánhòuguówángpáijiàqǐngtángsēngdōudàohuāyuánnèiguānkàn


逐句解 Line by line

guówángjiànchǒulòushuōhuàyòujiànniǔtóuniējǐngzuǐyáoěrduoxiàngyǒuxiēfēngyóukǒngjiǎoqīnshìzhǐcóng guówángjiànchǒulòushuōhuàyòujiànniǔtóuniējǐngzuǐyáoěrduoxiàngyǒuxiēfēngyóukǒngjiǎoqīnshìzhǐcóng

The king, seeing how ugly he was and how coarse his speech, and seeing him twisting his head and pinching up his neck, pursing his snout and waggling his ears, thought he seemed to have something of a derangement about him; and being afraid of upsetting the marriage, he had no choice but to agree.

The king gives in for the worst possible reason: he thinks Eight Rules may be mad and does not want a scene before the wedding. The three actions are the same three body parts as in the audience hall yesterday, with the verbs reshuffled — the shaking has moved off the head and onto the ears. 風氣 here is not weather but a disorder of the humours, the old way of describing what we would call a nervous condition. He is being read as unwell rather than rude, which is generous of the king and entirely wrong.

便biànjiào:「zàiyǒngzhènhuáānpáièrtóngzuòliúchūntíngshàngānpáisānqǐngsānwèibiézuòkǒngshīmenzuò便biàn。」 便biànjiào:「zàiyǒngzhènhuáānpáièrtóngzuòliúchūntíngshàngānpáisānqǐngsānwèibiézuòkǒngshīmenzuò便biàn。」

So he gave the order: "Set two places in the Pavilion of Eternal Peace over Chinese and Barbarian, and I shall sit with the Prince Consort. Set three places up at the Spring-Keeping Pavilion, and let the three of them sit separately — I am afraid the order of seating would be awkward for master and disciples."

He agrees and does not agree: everyone is in the garden, and the monks are still at the far table. The stated reason is beautifully diplomatic — it would be awkward to seat a master below his own disciples — and it is even true. The two buildings are named, and the names are the point. 永鎮華夷閣 announces an empire permanently at peace with the outsiders beyond it. 留春亭 means the pavilion where spring is made to stay. Four men who must reach India are about to spend four days in a building named for not letting the season move on.

dāizicáicháoshàngchàngjiàoshēng:「duōxiè。」ér退tuìyòuchuánzhǐjiàonèigōngguānpáiyànzhuósāngōngliùyuànhòufēigōngzhǔshàngtóujiùwèitiānzhuāngnuǎnzidàishíèrjiāpèi dāizicáicháoshàngchàngjiàoshēng:「duōxiè。」ér退tuìyòuchuánzhǐjiàonèigōngguānpáiyànzhuósāngōngliùyuànhòufēigōngzhǔshàngtóujiùwèitiānzhuāngnuǎnzidàishíèrjiāpèi

Only then did the idiot make his bow up towards the throne and call out, "Much obliged!" And they all withdrew. The king further sent down orders that the officers of the inner palace should lay on a feast, and that the consorts of the three palaces and six courts, together with the princess, should perform the pinning of the hair and add gifts to the trousseau and the third-day dishes, against the fine match on the twelfth.

唱個喏 is a Song and Ming salutation: a bow made while calling out a word of greeting, so the greeting is literally sung out. The character is in this use. The inner-palace orders are all wedding preparation and all specific. 上頭 is the pinning up of a girl's hair, the ceremony that marks her as grown and marriageable. 添妝 is the adding of gifts to the trousseau by the women of the household, and 餪子 — a rare word — is the food sent in to a bride after the wedding. 三宮六院, the three palaces and six courts, is still the ordinary Chinese shorthand for an emperor's whole establishment of wives.

jiāngyǒushíqiánhòuguówángpáijiàqǐngtángsēngdōudàohuāyuánnèiguānkàn jiāngyǒushíqiánhòuguówángpáijiàqǐngtángsēngdōudàohuāyuánnèiguānkàn

Towards the hour of the Snake the king had his carriage made ready and asked the Tang Monk and the rest to come into the royal garden and look.

The hour of the Snake is roughly nine to eleven in the morning: the Chinese day ran in twelve two-hour watches named for the same twelve animals that name the years. The edition opens a new paragraph at this line and the passage follows it: everything before it was yesterday's business.


總評 Commentary

The chapter's trap finishes closing here, and it closes with a seating plan and a list of dresses. Nothing threatening is said by anybody. A king arranges a wedding, which is what kings do.

The two pavilion names are the sort of detail this novel plants and never mentions again. One promises that the empire's peace with the barbarians will last for ever; the other promises that spring will be kept from leaving. Both are the kind of thing you carve over a door, and both are, in this chapter, exactly what the pilgrims cannot afford — they are the barbarians, and they must move on before the season does.

And in the inner palace, out of sight, the false princess is having her hair pinned up. The novel gives that to us in a subordinate clause in a list of catering arrangements, which is the coldest place it could have put it.