At the sight of it the Tang Monk toppled from his horse and lay in the road, and without another word he took the Tight-Fillet Spell and recited it, over and over, a full twenty times.

He does not get down from the horse; he falls off it. And then 更無二話, without a second word — twenty recitations, 足足, the full count. He had threatened exactly this, and he delivers exactly this. Whatever else has changed since the first blow, the hesitation is gone. (顛倒 is the whole thing through, over and over, with 倒 as dào; the 兒 of 緊箍兒咒 is the small toneless tag.)

Pitiable! — Pilgrim's head was squeezed till it looked like a pinch-waisted gourd, the pain past all bearing; and rolling over to plead, he cried, "Master, stop reciting! If you have something to say, then say it, and be done."

亞腰兒葫蘆 is a bottle gourd — the sort with a narrow waist pinched in between two bulges — and it is one of the best images in the chapter, because it tells you exactly what shape the band is forcing his skull into. He cannot stand up. He rolls. And what he asks for, even now, is a hearing: say what you have to say and be done. (勒得 takes the toneless de; 將 marks direction; 甚 is shén.)