一夜無詞 A Night Without a Word
他兩個散言碎語的，直鬥到更深，唐長老全不動念。那女怪扯扯拉拉的不放，這師父只是老老成成的不肯。直纏到有半夜時候，把那怪弄得惱了，叫：「小的們，拿繩來。」可憐將一個心愛的人兒，一條繩，綑的像個猱獅模樣。又教拖在房廊下去，卻吹滅銀燈，各歸寢處。一夜無詞。他两个散言碎语的，直斗到更深，唐长老全不动念。那女怪扯扯拉拉的不放，这师父只是老老成成的不肯。直缠到有半夜时候，把那怪弄得恼了，叫：「小的们，拿绳来。」可怜将一个心爱的人儿，一条绳，捆的像个猱狮模样。又教拖在房廊下去，却吹灭银灯，各归寝处。一夜无词。
逐句解 Line by line
The two of them wrangled on with scattered words and broken phrases right into the deep of the watches, and the Tang elder's mind never once stirred.
散言碎語 takes 散 as the adjective sǎn, loose or scattered, not the verb sàn, to disperse, that appeared earlier in the chapter when the dust settled. 更深 takes 更 as gēng, the night watch — "deep into the small hours".
That woman fiend tugged and pulled at him and would not let go; this master of ours, all staid sobriety, simply would not have it.
扯扯拉拉 and 老老成成 are doubled forms answering each other across the semicolon: tugging and pulling against staid and sober. Both keep their ordinary readings. The pairing is the joke — her verbs are all motion, his are all posture.
She kept at him until it was somewhere near the middle of the night, and by then had worked herself into a temper, and called out, “Little ones, fetch rope.”
弄得惱了 is the "worked herself into" construction and takes 得 as the toneless de, not the attainment dé.
A pitiful thing — the very man she doted on, and one length of rope, and he trussed into the likeness of a shaggy lion.
心愛的人兒 takes 兒 as the curled-tongue ending, and 模樣 takes 模 as mú. 猱獅 is obscure: the first character names a nimble monkey and the second a lion, and together they most likely name the shaggy beast of the lion dance. What the figure conveys is the trussed shape, not the species.
Then she had him dragged out under the gallery of the house, blew out the silver lamp, and they all went off to their sleeping places.
And then, having failed all night, she goes to bed. 教 is jiào, to have someone do a thing — she does not drag him out herself. 寢處 takes 處 as chù, a place for sleeping; the whole household turns in, leaving the guest trussed in the corridor.
Of that night there is nothing more to tell.
無詞 is the storyteller's way of skipping an interval — "and nothing more of that night" — not a claim that nobody spoke.
The night ends in failure and rope. What is striking is how the novel reports it: not as a demon overpowering a captive, but as a seduction running out of arguments. She tugs and pulls, he will not have it, and at some point past midnight she loses her temper and sends for cord. The verse exchange before this was a contest of allusions; the prose after it is simply a woman who has been refused all night.
The narrator's sympathy in 可憐 is placed oddly, and on purpose. It is not obviously for the man being tied up. The clause runs 可憐將一個心愛的人兒 — the very person she held dear — so the pity attaches to the situation rather than to either party, and the reader is briefly invited to see the binding from her side. Then she has him trussed and dragged out under the gallery, blows out the lamp, and goes to bed.
一夜無詞 closes the thread. It is a formula for skipping an interval rather than a claim that nothing was said, and it does the same work here that 不題 did when the brothers settled down on the slope. Both halves of the chapter have now been put to sleep, and the story can start again at cockcrow with everybody in position.