胡言亂語 She Talked Wildly by Day
公主識得此意,日間胡言亂語,討些茶飯吃了;夜深無人處,思量父母悲啼。那老僧也曾來國打聽幾番,見公主在宮無恙,所以不敢聲言舉奏。因見我徒弟有些神通,那老僧千叮萬囑,教貧僧到此查訪。不期他原是蟾宮玉兔為妖,假合真形,變作公主模樣,他卻又有心要破我元陽。幸虧我徒弟施威顯法,認出真假。今已被太陰星收去。賢公主見在布金寺裝風也。」公主识得此意,日间胡言乱语,讨些茶饭吃了;夜深无人处,思量父母悲啼。那老僧也曾来国打听几番,见公主在宫无恙,所以不敢声言举奏。因见我徒弟有些神通,那老僧千叮万嘱,教贫僧到此查访。不期他原是蟾宫玉兔为妖,假合真形,变作公主模样,他却又有心要破我元阳。幸亏我徒弟施威显法,认出真假。今已被太阴星收去。贤公主见在布金寺装风也。」
逐句解 Line by line
"The princess understood what he meant by it, and by day she talked wildly and at random and begged a little tea and rice and ate it; and late at night, where there was nobody about, she would think of her father and mother and weep."
She worked out the plan and joined in. That is the sentence the whole chapter has been withholding. 識得 — to make out, to grasp — takes the full dé. This project flagged the phrase as missing from its tables at three separate chapter kickoffs and finally registered it at this one; it runs to eighteen sites in fifteen chapters and the reading was correct at all of them by luck of the chain. 思量 — to turn over in the mind — takes liáng. The project's standing rule for this character was written as though the reading depended on verse position, and this prose site is the one that proves it does not. Ruled by sense at this chapter instead.
"That old monk had come to the capital several times to make enquiries, and seeing the princess safe and well in the palace, he did not dare to speak out or make a report. And because he saw that my disciple had some magic powers about him, the old monk urged me a thousand times over and charged me to come here and look into it."
He came to the city to check, saw the princess alive on her balcony, and went home unable to say a word. That is the year the old monk has had. 千叮萬囑 — a thousand exhortations and ten thousand charges — is a set phrase for pressing something on somebody urgently and repeatedly. It is the sound of a man who has been carrying an impossible secret and has finally found somebody who might be able to act on it. The bind he was in is exact and horrible. If the princess in the palace is real, the girl in his back room is mad or an impostor. If he speaks and is wrong, he has accused a king's daughter of being false. So he says nothing for a year.
"I did not expect that she would turn out to be the Jade Hare of the Toad Palace playing the fiend, counterfeiting a true form and changing into the princess's likeness, and that she should have set her heart on breaking my primal yang. Happily my disciple made a show of his power and worked his magic and picked out the true from the false."
Tripitaka gives Wukong the credit in front of the court, which he does not always do. Four readings the bare chain gets wrong sit in this one sentence: 為 as wéi in playing the fiend, 模 as mú in the likeness, 要 as yào in setting her heart on it, and 假合 carrying the chapter's own title. 認出真假 is the fifth different phrase this chapter has used for sorting the false from the true, after the battle poem's, the palace's, the terrace's and the Grand Yin's.
"She has now been taken away by the Star Lord of the Grand Yin. Your worthy princess is at this moment in the Jetavana Almsgiving Monastery, playing the madwoman."
The speech ends where it needed to get to, and the last two characters are the ones that will make a king cry. 裝風 — putting on madness — has been the girl's whole strategy for a year, and Tripitaka reports it as a plain fact of her whereabouts. Nobody in the hall has yet worked out what it cost her. 賢公主 — your worthy princess — is a courtesy, and there is something careful in it. He has just told this man that his daughter has spent a year pretending to be insane in a locked room, and he chooses the most respectful possible word for her while doing it.
The most affecting fact in the chapter is delivered in half a sentence: by day she talked wildly and begged a little food, and late at night, when nobody was about, she thought of her parents and wept.
Everything about the arrangement is a collaboration. The old monk gave out that she was a fiend to keep his own monks away from her, and she understood the plan and played the part. For a year she has been performing insanity in a locked room, in a foreign monastery, well enough that nobody looked twice — and coming out of the performance only in the dark, when she could afford to be herself.
It also completes the chapter's pattern. Everyone in this story has been mistaken for something they are not: a hare for a princess, a princess for a madwoman, a moon lady for a mortal child, and a monk for a bridegroom. Only two of those disguises were meant to deceive, and the other two were how people stayed alive.