誇說寶杖 The Precious Staff Extolled
沙和尚見他兩個攀話,忍不住近前高叫道:「那怪物休得朗言。古人云:『口說無憑,做出便見。』不要走,且吃我一杖。」妖邪使鎚桿架住道:「你也是半路裡出家的和尚。」沙僧道:「你怎麼認得?」妖邪道:「你這模樣,像一個磨博士出身。」沙僧道:「如何認得我像個磨博士?」妖邪道:「你不是磨博士,怎麼會使趕麵杖?」沙僧罵道:「你這孽障,是也不曾見:沙和尚见他两个攀话,忍不住近前高叫道:「那怪物休得朗言。古人云:『口说无凭,做出便见。』不要走,且吃我一杖。」妖邪使锤杆架住道:「你也是半路里出家的和尚。」沙僧道:「你怎么认得?」妖邪道:「你这模样,像一个磨博士出身。」沙僧道:「如何认得我像个磨博士?」妖邪道:「你不是磨博士,怎么会使赶面杖?」沙僧骂道:「你这孽障,是也不曾见:
逐句解 Line by line
Sha Monk, seeing the two of them trading talk, could hold back no longer. He came forward and called out: "Monster, you may not talk so large.
攀話, to strike up a conversation — Sha Monk's complaint is that a fight has turned into a chat. 休得, "you may not," with 得 dé; 朗言, to speak loud and big.
The ancients said: 'Words from the mouth are no warrant — do the thing and it will be seen.'
A proverb quoted inside a speech and marked off with 『』. The maxim is aimed squarely at the two weapon-panegyrics that have just been recited.
Don't run — take a taste of my staff."
且吃我一杖 is the fixed challenge-formula of these combats, and Sha Monk uses it to cut the boasting short.
The fiend parried with the shaft of his mallet and said: "You too are a monk who took orders halfway along."
鎚桿, the mallet's handle. 半路裡 = 半路上: the taunt returns for the third time, and the pattern of the exchange starts over unchanged.
Sha Monk said: "How do you know that?"
認得 得 dé. Sha Monk walks into the same question Bajie walked into, which is the joke of the repetition.
The fiend said: "By the look of you, you started life as a mill-hand."
磨博士: 博士 in Song and Ming usage is an ironic honorific for a tradesman — a tea-博士, a mill-博士 — not an academic degree. The insult is that Sha Monk looks like a man who turns a grindstone.
Sha Monk said: "How do you make me out to be a mill-hand?"
認得 得 dé again. Three questions, three trades, three verses: the block is built as an exact repetition of the two before it.
The fiend said: "If you are no mill-hand, how do you come to handle a rolling-pin?"
趕麵杖, a rolling-pin. It is the lowest of the three trade-slurs — gardener, silversmith, mill-hand — and the one that stings most, since Sha Monk's staff is the most exalted of the three weapons.
Sha Monk cursed him: "You accursed thing, plainly you have never set eyes on the like:
孽障, "karmic obstruction," the standard term of abuse for a demon. 是也不曾見 with the colon is the verse-tag, and the six couplets following belong to this passage.
A weapon of this sort is rare in the world of men, / and so the name of this precious staff goes unknown.
人間少: 少 shǎo, "few, rare"; 間 jiān; 難知 難 nán, "hard to." The opening couplet claims obscurity as a proof of worth.
It came from the shadowless place in the Palace of the Moon, / cut and polished from immortal sāl-wood.
梭羅 = 娑羅, the sāl tree of Buddhist tradition. 無影處 處 chù — in the moon-palace nothing casts a shadow. 琢磨 zhuó mó, to carve and burnish.
Outside it is inlaid with gems that blaze with rosy light; / within, bored through with gold, an auspicious vapour gathers.
嵌 qiàn, to inlay. The construction — jewelled without, numinous within — is the standard shape of these descriptions, and matches the mallet's lotus interior in the preceding block.
In former days it attended at the imperial banquet; / this morning it upholds the right and guards the Tang Monk.
今朝 朝 zhāo, "morning, today." 御宴 refers to Sha Monk's former office in Heaven as Curtain-Raising Captain, when the staff was a courtier's implement and not a weapon.
On the road to the West there is none who knows it; / in the palaces of the upper world it bears a great name.
知識 here has its older sense, "one who knows, an acquaintance," not the modern "knowledge." 宮中 中 zhōng. The couplet turns the obscurity of the opening into a grievance about exile.
It is called the True Precious Staff for Subduing Fiends, / and one stroke of it will crack the crown of your skull."
降妖: 降 read xiáng, "to subdue" — not jiàng, "to send down," which is pypinyin's default and which the same graph does carry two blocks later in 降天涯. 天靈, the crown of the head; 管教 教 jiào.
This is the third weapon-boast, and it completes a figure. The demon has now guessed at all three pilgrims' trades and been wrong three times — a hired gardener, a silversmith's bellows-boy, a mill-hand with a rolling-pin — and each guess has been answered with a pedigree in six couplets. The insults descend as the weapons ascend: the rolling-pin is the meanest of the three slurs and the staff is the most exalted of the three weapons, cut from sāl-wood in the Palace of the Moon and carried at the imperial table before ever it was carried on the road.
The pedigree is also a complaint. 西方路上無知識,上界宮中有大名 — nobody on the westward road knows what this is, though in the palaces above it is famous — is Sha Monk's standing note, and the only one of the three boasts that dwells on how far its owner has come down in the world. The closing couplet gives the staff its proper name and hangs the chapter's most consequential polyphone on it: 降 here is xiáng, "to subdue," against the jiàng ("to descend") that the same graph takes in the rhapsody that follows.