AEt@^V[Ƃt@^V[II

### jo[TAjR[ \wŌ̃jR[xɂ郆jR[̑ݘ_IwW

@svcȗ͂߂}~[EtHi̖CȃT[JXA~bhiCgEJ[joɕ߂炦ꂽjR[́ẢbBƋɟB̒ɕ߂A悢挩ɋ邱ƂɂȂB͖@̗͂ŋ[ꂽ̓̉B̌󂯂āAlB̑OɂIڂ邱ƂɂȂjR[́AtɎ̎pF߂lX̊ɕ񂾕\ɁAȆ̉ʂĂ̕ωƁA𐶂lX̔߂S̗Llm̂łB

She heard hearts bounce, tears brewing, and breath going backward, but nobody said a word. By the sorrow and loss and sweetness in their faces she knew that they recognized her, and she accepted their hunger as her homage. She thought of the hunterfs great-grandmother, and wondered what it must be like to grow old, and to cry.

p.@33

@jR[͐lXe܂A܂܂āAۂނ̂𕷂܂Bǂꌾ҂͂܂łBޓ̊ɕ񂾔߈ƑrƘa񂾕\AjR[͔ޓ̎pF߂Ƃ܂BĔޏ́Aޓ̋Q슴ɑ΂hӂƂĎ󂯓ꂽ̂łBޏ͎l̂Ђ΂̂Ƃvׂ܂BĔNƂA܂𗬂ċȂǂƂ͂ǂƂȂ̂낤AƕsvcɎv܂B

jR[̎pڂɂlXŎ́A̕ɂ郆jR[̑ݑÂׂ݂ꂽA{iƓ̃L[[hۗ̂ƂȂĂBjR[Ƃ_bIȑݎgA̒̈ꓪłޏɊւ̂Ƃĕʂ̒ɗpĂAʂ̌̑OƂ܈ӂ𗣂āA{iE̒̓Ɠ̒ɊÂđIĂŗL̂̂Ȃ̂BlX̖ڂɂꂽƂglosshirj́AĐlԒBẲԂ̂ȂωAȆ؂Ȉꕔj󂳂Ă܂ƂÎĂBjR[Ƃ͂̂悤ȐE̊Ɛlԑ݂Ƃ̊Ԃɉ݂AϗIȌƂłׂ̂\AےIȋLł̂낤B炱AɌĂ錩lB̕\ɕ񂾁ghungerhiQ슴jƂ́AƂ̒BĂjR[̎pڂɂɊoƂA핁ՓIȊȂ̂łB̉c݂𑱂ĂɎԂȂĂ܂̂A邢͐܂鉓ȑOɒNĂ܂Ăʂ̂̂Aޏ̎pN̖ڂɂvN邩炾BăjR[̌󂯂Č̑c~𖱂߂^łƂēoꂷ邱ƂɂȂAɂꓪ̈ۓIȉ̎pЉۂɂ̖CȃT[JẌēl̃[Ń̕AŊmFjR[̏ےIȓAɗt̂ƂȂĂ̂łB

gMost shows,h said Rukh after a time, gwould end here, for what could they possibly present after a genuine unicorn? But Mommy Fortunafs Midnight Carnival holds one more mystery yet\a demon more destructive than the dragon, more monstrous than the manticore, more hideous than the harpy, and certainly more universal than the unicorn.[TM]h

p. 33

@uŤ͂ł܂ɂȂ邱Ƃł傤Bvbă[N͌܂Bu{̃jR[̌󂯂āAǂȂ̂ɗpӂ邱Ƃłł傤Bǂ}~[EtHĩ~bhiCgEJ[jóAɂ̐_pӂ̂łBhSjIȉłA}eBRACŁAn[s[ɂ܂AĎہAjR[jo[T̂Ȃ̂ł܂Bv

̃[Ň͒XBɋꂽȒݕBAeX̎L̑Ƃ̖O̊ԂɓCialliterationj𓥂ނƂɂāAݘ_IӋ̔OȊ֘AÂsďЉĂ̂łBt̎pIN͂\Ɉӎłƌėǂ낤BȂ݂ɓCɂčI݂ɘAւꂽGsZbgiPjƂꂼ̖̉Δ䂵ĕ\ɂΈȉ̂悤ɂȂBA_[C{CialliterationjđΉĂӏłB

destructive\dragon, monstrous\manticore,
hideous\harpy, universal\unicorn

p. 87

jR[ɊGsZbgƂāgjo[ThiՓIjƂepĂ̂́A{i̍IƊւdȎ|ƂȂ̂Ȃ̂łBĈَ̃AEt@^V[ł{i̓Ɠ̎ۗ΂łȂAt@^V[wʂ̎vzI[Iɕ\ĂƎv̂A͂̌t̓Ȃ̂łB̎wȆÓmF邽߂̍ŏ̎菇ƂāA܂́wŌ̃jR[xɂăjR[̑ɂČĂƓ̌êグāAgjo[ThƂTOƂ̊֘AɊւ錟؂̎ĂƂɂ悤B
@̖AŏɃjR[ɂČĂ̂́AgoldhƂepĂłB

She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night.

p. 7

ޏ́Ał͒mȂǁAƂĂ܂BĔޏ͂C̖Â悤Ȗ׋CȔFł͂ȂȀƂ炷ӂɍ~̂悤ȔFĂ܂B

jR[͒Pɐ܂Ă璷NdˁAgNƂĂhł͂ȂBʂ̐BɌ鐬̉ʂĂ̘VAtIȖ߂ȑrƌނuVvƂ͂ނΏƓIȁAOIɐIȓʂȑTOƂāA̍îȂł́goldhƂtƓȈӖ咣ČĂƂɂȂĂ̂łB̖ŃjR[̐AgshehƂ㖼̑}ɂďƂĉ߂ďЉAɂ肰Ȃł͂ɁgoldhƂepāÂb̃jR[̕ێɂ߂ėOIȑݑIɌĂ̂łB
@jR[̃GsZbg鑶ݑ́uՐvƂ̒SA铽ꂽӋm߂|́AႦΈȉ̂悤ȕɂĂ߂邱ƂłBjR[svcȖ@̗͂gĕ߂炦}~[EtHiɔڂĝ悤ɎgĂ͂ȂAޏɑ΂Ăُ͈ȓGSȂ@g̃VhbŃA}~[EtHi̖@̔\͂ɂĎ̂悤ɃjR[Ɍ肩̂łB

gcShe canft turn cream into butter, but she can give a lion the semblance of a manticore to eyes that want to see a manticore there\eyes that would take a real manticore for a lion, a dragon for a lizard, and the Midgard Serpent for an earthquake. And a unicorn for a white mare.h

p. 30

uć̖AN[o^[ɕς͂Ă͂܂Bɂł邱Ƃ́A}RA̎pɌĂ̖̂ڂɁACI}RA̎pɌ悤ɂĂ邱ƂłBȘA͖{̃}RAăCIƎvAhSƂɂA~bhKgET[yg݂̑nkƂłȂ̂łB烆jR[Ă̔nƎv̂łBv

@ނ̌ʂA̐X𗣂ĊO̐EɏojR[ốAjR[̎pڂɂĂAꂪ̑SĂ̐lX̓ۂ̋ł郆jR[łƋCtƂ͌ĂȂAɔȒlŔ鎓nƎvł܂AsȐlԒBȂ̂łB̖@gVhbN͂ł́Au̘AƂ͈āAɂ͂ȂjR[ƕBvƍ悤ƂĂȂ̂Aނ̌tӖĂ̂́Aꂾł͂ȂBނ̎咣ɏ]΁AN𐶂Ă郆jR[̒mȂɂ̊ԂɂAuȌzɂ̂ݐSDA^̑݁ỉjĂIȒȐƂĂ󂯎ȂvƂRł悤ȐEɁASĂώĂ܂Ă̂łB̎́wŌ̃jR[x̂ŌJԂĂA{i̍Ixro̊ƂȂĂ̂Ȃ̂łBiQjĂ̂悤ɂĎꂽ̒D҂邢͍Đ߂؎ȊoƂ́A̓t@^V[wʂɋʂSwIAvzIX@Ɏ̂łB
@[IɌĂ܂Όǂ̓t@^V[Ƃ́ẢF\_sɎ咣AvzIvpK_̏łƊŘ􂷂Ƃ̏ôȂ̂B̂ȂΌ̕EWԂ鑭ƃjqYA@̗͂ʂĐE̖{Ɖi̐^݂͂Ƃ邱Ƃł锤łƎ咣Aȃ}̊ϓ_瑍ƁA̖@ǧt̂悤ȔᔻIȌ邱ƂɂȂ邩Ȃ̂łBނ͉̐ȊwIqώ̌EA_IώeNꍇ̓T^IȐ}łƂė邱Ƃł̂낤Bt@^V[Ƃ́AɗcIȗB̖zoƂȂ蓾̂ł͂ȂAHɈӎIđ͖ӎIȁAOIɂ͂ނɊmłmMƊ]ɖAlYꋎ낤ƂĂ錴Iώ̈Î鑏ɑ΂ĕ]݂̎Ƃčl邱Ƃł̂łB
@ႦΖ@gVhbŃAŐlXgnkhƌĂԎRۂ̐̂Ag~bhKgET[yghƂA_bIȉłƌĂBÑk_bɂċȎւ̎pÂƂɐEŜ܂ĂƂꂽ݂A~bhKgET[ygƌĂ΂̂łBۓIȔlԂ̔wɁAɖ{IȂ[ӋݓIݗlԂłƉ肷vzɂ΁Â悤ȗ͋ɂ߂ĎRȂ̂ƂĎ咣邱ƂɂȂ̂łBČÑ㐢EɂẮARۂ̊eX_̖ŌĂ΂A܂lԂ̐Sɕ񂾊zO͂Aꂼꂪ̐_̖ŌĂ΂ꂽƂƂvN΂悢낤BMVA_b̐_XAlTXȍ~ߑ̃[bpŉ߂ĎR̍\vfƂč\zꂽB́Â悤Ȏvl̎YȂ̂łBi3jł͐EŜƐlԑ݂̑oƂٖ̂Ȋ֌W̋ŁǍۂ̈ӋƓĔF邱ƂƂȂ̂łB̐_̒ɂhiƐm؂҂́A]IɉF̂̂̐[ƐmM邱Ƃł̂łBEɑ΂銴ӂƐM̔O𔺂ȂPȂ鉞pZpƂẮAF̍瘨IḿAނϗIȈӖɂĂׂ͑̂ƂāgmhĂ܂ƂƂȂB
@̂悤ȐEςɊÂӖ̂ƂĐFƁA̒łɑ΂ϑ҂邢͋Lq҂ƂāAĎɂ͑I΂ꂽۂ̔ɊւKvsȐi҂ƂāAƂ̂łȂӋ̂ƂĂ̐𑗂Ălԑ݂AEŜٖ̋Ȋ֌W̗ɓIɕۏႷ錴AՓIijo[TjƌĂ΂̂łȂ΂ȂȂ̂łBiSj
@jR[̎pF߂lXsvcȗD̕\ƁAĔނ̖ڂ̎ȂŕAׂĂ̐lǂ߂AՓIȓۂƂăjR[Ƃ݂邱ƂĂ̂B炩̂ƂłȂ߂̂߂ɓA{IȎRƂ̘𗈂ʁAjR[EɐĂ邱Ƃ̔߂oAuQ슴vihungerjƂtpĒĂ̂łB߂āuՐvLƂČꂽ̂b̃jR[̈Î̂Aɂ̃L[[hݒ肷邱ƂɂāAē_ĂĂ݂邱Ƃɂ悤B

It is their nature to live alone in one place: usually a forest where there is a pool clear enough for them to see themselves\for they are a little vain, knowing themselves to be the most beautiful creatures in all the world, and magic besides.

p. 7

jR[͌Q炸A̌܂ꏊɂ炵Ă̂łB͑̏ꍇA̎pfoƂ̂łA񂾐̂X̒łB̂Ȃ烆jR[B́ABEōłł邱ƂmĂāA̎p𒭂߂̂DłłBA@Ƃ֘A܂B

@悸AjR[͐Eōł݂łƂĂB́A̍iɂƓ̃jR[ɊւݒȂ̂łB̂ȂÑMVA_b⒆̃LXg̒ŌĂjR[Ƃ́A΂ΔjIȖҁXƉ邱Ƃ̂łȂF~ےAjIC[WW񂵂݂ł炾B邢͉̎҂ƂĂ̊p̕ێ閂͂UA邢͋Ȉ͂łĖ̑SĂ쐋鋭̎ƂČė]̃jR[ȂǂƂ͈قȂÂb̃jR[͖l̐S̉̐捂ȏɖ̕Ƃ[ւ̂Ȃ̂B̂悤ȃjR[̑ݐ̂̂ɍIɊւƂĂvf𕨌̂ÃL[[hgoldhƁAĂgimmortalhƂL[[hłB
@̃L[[hɂċK肳邱̂b̃jR[Ƃِ݂̓ƁÃjR[Ǝ̕ێȔ\͂łƋɁA̐Exz鎩R@ƂČɉ߂ēWJg@h̗͂̔wɑ݂錴@\Ƃ̊֌WA̍i̒SI邱ƂƂȂ̂B

It was always spring in her forest, because she lived there,

p. 7

X̒ł͂tłBjR[Xł͏ɂȂ̂łB

̉ӏ́AL[[hgmagichƋɁgtimehɊ֘A镔łBjR[͎̗̎xzSRȑ݂Ȃ̂łB̂Ƃޏ́gimmortalhAyсgoldhƂŗL̑肷鐕vȏ邱ƂɂȂBɔ䂵Ď̕ὠzłȂlԒBgmortalhƌĂԂ̂́AMVA_bɂ_X̔złBǵׂhimortaljƂĂ𕉂킳ꂽAvIȎ􂢂݂̌ƂĂ̐lԐɑ΂ɗȎoAjR[Ƃ_bI݂̒SےIӋ𗠕tĂ̂łBR̃L[[hڂɘAgAꂼ̌ʂ̋@\𑶕ɉʂȂA̍iE̐isSčsƂɂȂ̂łB
@烆jR[n߂Ė@gVhbN̎pڂɎ~߂ۂ̕ʂɂÃL[[hƂ̊ւ肪Y邱ƂȂ邱ƂƂȂĂB

He smiled, and she saw that his face was frighteningly young for a grown man\untraveled by time, unvisited by grief or wisdom. gI know you,h he said.

p. 31

@j͔΂݂܂BjR[͂̒j̊炪l̂̂ƂẮAт肷قǎX̂ɋCt܂B̕ωĂ炸A߈ɂbqɂ̂ȂłBulɂ͂Ȃ܂Bvj͌܂B

sRȒɎXO@gVhbN̎ṕAɕꐢE߂dvȏƂčpAނ̓hƎ􂢂ƂȎ̕Ƃċ@\邱ƂɂȂ̂ł邪A͂胆jR[̓L̑łgoldhƂvfɔ]IɌq̂łB
@Ă܂́goldhƂL[[hA̏dvȃL[[h𓱂ƂɂȂBVhbN͎g̔閧ăjR[Ɍ̂łB

But to take me for a mountebank like herself\that was her first and fatal folly. For I too am real. I am Schmendrick the Magician, the last of the red-hot swamis, and I am older than I look.h

p. 44

@łl̂ƂƓ悤Ȃ܂̊ptłƍŏɍl̂A̖̔ƂvIȉ߂̂łB̂Ȃl܂A{łBl͖@gAVhbNB̟͂閂tB̍Ō̈lƂȂ҂łBl͌͂ƔNƂĂ̂łB

̈pɂăL[[hgoldhɑ΂ĘAIɋ@\ׂ̂Ƃēꂽ̏dvȃL[[hƂāAgrealhB̌t͂VhbNɊւ閧̕ƂȂĂƓɁAjR[̓L̑Lqɑ΂鋾ʓIƎ˂ƂĂ@\邱ƂɂȂĂ̂łB̐ɑ݂邾̂̂SāgrealhȂ̂ł͂ȂBނgrealhȂ̂Ƃ́Aɂ߂ċHȓ̔\͂Ɖ^Ɍb܂ꂽ݂̂̂ĂԑIʂꂽtȂ̂łB
@Bɕ߂ꂽjR[悤ƂĖ@gVhbN@ASĂȂsɏIۂ̃jR[̔ɊւʂǍẗӋDƂĂ邾낤B

The unicorn found herself standing in a grove of trees\orange and lemon, pear and pomegranate, almond and acacia\with soft spring earth under her feet, and the sky growing over her. Her heart turned light as smoke, and she gathered up the strength of her body for a great bound into the sweet night. Bur she let the leap drift out of her, untaken, for she knew, although she could not see them, that the bars were still there. She was too old not to know.

p. 45

jR[́Aؗ̊ԂɗĂ̂ɋCt܂BIW⃌AɒўցAA[hƃAJVA̖؂܂B̉ɂ͎ď_炩t̓y܂Bēɂ͋LĂ̂łBjR[̐Ŝ͉悤ɌyȂAޏ͍镗̒ɒяoƗ͂߂܂BǂjR[́AvƂǂ܂ė͂𔲂̂łBڂɂ͌ȂȂĂĂA܂Siqɂ邱ƂłBꂪȂłɂ́Aޏ̓I[hł߂̂łB

@gޏ͕Ȃłɂ͂܂ɂI[hł肷hƂ́AڂɃL[[hgI[hhɊ֘Âł邪Ał́gI[hhł邱Ƃ́A^̒oIc͂̏LƂȂ̂łƂĂ̂łBw͂wKȂǂ̌oIɎ擾ꂽ\͂Ƃ͑SقȂ{IȔ\͂ƂāAi̐^m\݂͂̑肳Ă邱ƂB̂悤ȗ͂Iʂꂽ󏭂ȑ݂݂̂A̕ɂẮgrealhƂ̂łB
@ɏ́grealhƂƂ̊֘Â݂Ȃ炸AłIȃL[[hłgI[hh́AlX̌Ŕ]IɓKp邱ƂƂȂBႦ΁Aȉ̉ӏȂǂ̓T^IȓKpƂĂ邾낤B
@gꂽn[s[̕񕜂̂߂ɁA}~[EtHisȍŊ}ۂ́A@gVhbN̗LlʂłB

The unicorn turned away. Close by, she heard a childfs voice telling her that she must run, she must run. It was the magician. His eyes were huge and empty, and his face\always too young\was collapsing into childhood as the unicorn looked at him.

p. 49

jR[Ԃ܂Bԋ߂q̂悤ȐAgA񂾁IhƋёĂ̂܂B͖@g̐łBނ̖ڂ͋ɌJĂāA܂ɂႷAjR[ڂĂƁA͂{ɗcq̂悤Ɍ܂B

ł́gchildhƂtAL[[hgI[hhɔ]IɊ֘ÂƂȂĂ邱ƂBjR[̂悤ȒzIgI[hh݂̑ɑ΂đΏƓIɖnŕsSȂ̂́gyounghA邢́gchildhȂǂƂtpČe邱ƂƂȂĂ̂łB̂悤ɃjR[̓Ɠ̑ݐ킷gI[hhƂL[[h́A肰Ȃ̏ʂŗlX̕ʂ̌tpāA݂ɔ悤ȋٖȊ֌W̋ŌĂ̂łB
@͏̏ʂ̒AjR[ƋɎS̏ɂ閂@gVhbN̎pʂłB

The moon was gone, but to the magicianfs eyes the unicorn was the moon, cold and white and very old, lighting his way to safety, or to madness.

p. 49

͎pBĂ܂Bǂ@g̖ڂɂ́AjR[̎p̌̂悤Ɏv܂B₽AĂƂĂI[hA̕ޓSȕpւƁA邢͋vւƓĂ̂łB

E鐶𑗂lԑ݂ɂƂẮgI[hhɑ΂鎩óAiɓBʂ̂ɑ΂]IȓۂƂāAƏ펯̓]̉\̂ƂȂBlԑ݂Ƃē͂ƔfSĖjIȗvƂȂ蓾̂ÁgI[hhƂTOłB炱̒ɁAgmanhƂ̖炩ȑΏƂۗꂽAƓl̊ܒ~gchildhƂ̎gpĂъmF邱ƂƂȂBO܂ł捂ȃjR[̎pƂ͑ΏƓIɁAȑOjR[Ɍ̂Ƃ͑łĕςāA藐lqŖ}~[EtHi̎Q߂ރVhbN̎pʂ镔łB

Like a newborn child, the magician wept for a long time before he could speak. gThe poor old woman,h he whispered at last.

p. 53

܂ꂽ΂̐Ԏq̂悤A@g͍Ăьt𔭂邱Ƃł悤ɂȂ܂ŁAԋ܂Bu΂AzɁBv悤₭ꂽŌ܂B

The unicorn said nothing, and Schmendrick raised his head and stared at her in a strange way. A gray morning rain was beginning to fall, and she shone through it like a dolphin. gNo,h she said answering his eyes. gI can never regret.h

p. 53

jR[͉܂łBVhbN͊グāAԂCɃjR[݂̊܂B̉J݂ėn߂Ă܂B̒ŃjR[̎p̓CĴ悤ɋPČ܂BuAvjR[͖@g̖ڂɓČ܂Buɂ͌邱Ƃ͂ł܂Bv

jR[͖@gVhbN̂悤ɖ}~[EtHi̔Ƃ̎OɂĂAQƂ߂ނƂȂƁAĔނɍ̂łB̃jR[̑䎌̒ɂgregrethƂt܂AL[[hgeternalhƖڂɊ֘ÂȂ̂łB͂̒̏ʂɂgsorrowhƂtƑΔ䂷邱ƂɂāA̐[Ӌ𖾂炩ɂ̂łB

The unicorn waited, feeling the days of her life falling around her with the rain. gI can sorrow,h she offered gently, gbut itfs not the same thing.h

p. 53

jR[́AJƋɎ̖̓XꗎčŝȂAt؂đ҂Ă܂Bꂩ܂Dt܂Bu͔߈邱Ƃ͂ł܂Bł͌Ƃ͈قȂ̂łBv

@jR[̕ێɂ߂ċHȑłiieternaljƕsiimmortaljɒt邱ƂɂȂĂ̂AɗpꂽjR[̌gsorrowhƁgregrethƂt̑Δł낤BjR[Ɠ悤Ƀ}~[EtHi̎ɐS𓮂邱Ƃ͑SȂƂɋCtA悤ɊグVhbNɁAgeternalhȑ݂̃jR[́Augsorrowh͒mĂ邪Agregreth͒mȂvƍ̂łBgregrethƂ́A^̓zƂĐ鎞Ԑitemporalj݂̑̎AȏIłΜ̔ÔƂł낤Bɔ䂵āgsorrowhƂ́Aȋ݂ł萶𒴉z݂ł郆jR[AƂ̂SĂɑ΂ĊoA[yڂ鑏ɖ߈̋Cł낤B̂ɕKK鎀ԋ߂ɂĂē]邱Ƃ͂ȂAƂR̎߂ĎׂĥƂɂ鑶݂ɌĂȂ΂ȂȂɁA܂ł͒mȂgJƋɎ̖̓XꗎčshrjR[͊𓾂ȂB̂悤ȈӖŃjR[gsorrowh̎xz玩Rȑ݂ł͂Ȃ̂łB̓Ɠ̃jR[̕ێ鑮邽߂ɂA̗̕lX̃Gs\[hƁAsvcȖ킢ɖƓ̎I\̐XpĂȂ̂łB
@ႦΎg̖@̗͂ɂĎꂽt̐X𗣂āAE̘HւƑ𓥂ݓꂽjR[̊oԐ̎xz̋yڂóAȉ̂悤ȌtŌĂ̂B

cfor the first time she began to feel the minutes crawling over her like worms.

p. 10

cjR[́A߂ĎԂv̂悤ɑ̂̏𔇂̂̂łB

{Ԑ݂̑łXƂmoƂĊm邱Ƃ̂ȂԂ̒ɖ߂ɉ銴óAȋ݂ł郆jR[ɑ΂ẮÂI܂悤Ȓɐ؂ȊGƂĎ󂯎~߂̂łB
@̋؂ɂ΂炭ɐisɂAjR[̕ێƓ̑łgI[hhƂTOƁAƑΏƓIȎׂlԑ݂̖nÎ錾tgchildh́AeXJԂpĂ邱ƂĎB͖@gVhbN̍sgA͖nȏoȂ̖@̌ʂɕ|ꂨ̂̂AmȎRB̗lqʂłB

Instantly, his black hat snatched itself from the fingers of the man who held it and floated slowly through the darkening air, silent as an owl. Two women fainted, and the Mayor sat down. The outlaws cried out in childrenfs voices.

pp. 62

ɃVhbN̍Xq́A͂łj̎wЂ悤ɗāA̒~낵OC̒tNÊ悤ɐÂɔōs܂Bl̏͋CAs͜RƂĂւ荞ł܂܂BĂȂ炸ҒB́Aq̂悤ȋѐ̂łB

gchildrenh́AmɓꕽʏɂāgI[hhƂTOƂ̑Ώ̂ȂĂ̂ƂāA̔eɑTOł邱Ƃ߂ĊmFB̌t͐΂̈ӖɂĘAւ̔]IƂāAL[[hgI[hhƊ֘AĂ̂łB̌t̗̂̂pƂĂł͂ȂATOƊܒ~ɂČꂽڂȈӖ̑gD\̂A̕ɂĂٖ͋ɍ\zĂ̂łB玟̗΁gbabyhƂʂ̌t܂AgI[hhƂL[[hɘAڂĂ邱ƂmF邾낤BVhbN@̗͂pď҂^̑ݒBArEtbhƔނ̐X̒ԒBڂɂ́A݂ڂ炵̋Vlg̗zOɂĎv킸SQ̐ʂłB

gAlan-a-Dale.h It was raw Willie Gentle. gLook at those changes.h His voice was as naked as a baby bird.

p. 74

uAiEfCBv̐̂́Anl̃EB[EWFgłBuƌϒ̎@Bvނ̐́AЂȒ̂悤ɊۗłB

̕܂L[[hganimal imagehɊ֘AӏAgނ̐͒̐̂悤ɊۗłBh́gbabyhƂt炩ɁgI[hh̑ΗTOƂȂ̂Ƃč̗pĂ邱ƂBŗpĂégrawhgnakedh͂Al̊TÔłƔf邱Ƃł̂łB͑SāgI[hh̔ΌƂċ@\A{ĩjR[̖{I킷łdvȃL[[ḧłgI[hhƔ]IɘAڂׂTOƂkȌvZ̋ɓĂ̂łB
@gI[hhƂTOÎAlԊËʏ펯Ƃ͑ΏƓIɈقȂ鍂簂Ȑ₩́AjR[n߂ďhGbhEuƑΖʂۂ̔ޏɑ΂ʂ̌ɂČɂĂB܂̍i̒ŁgI[hhƂTO⊮邽߂̌Ȃ̈ꕔłƂĂ悢ł낤B

With an old, gay, terrible cry of ruin, the unicorn reared out of her hiding place. Her hoofs came slashing down like a rain of razors, her mane raged, and on her forehead she wore a plume of lightning.

p. 106

I[hőN₩ȁAjł炷܂ѐȂAjR[͉BĂAp܂BjR[̒͒䓁̉Ĵ悤ɑł~낳AĂ݂͓{ɐU藐Åz̊p͈̂悤ɌH悤łB

@O܂ł͋ƂāAċPʂɖpgI[hhƂt̗Ɋ܂܂ܒ~Ȃ̂łBĈӊOȂƂɁAjR[Ƃ̎n߂Ă̑ΌʂÂٓIȗ͂łċmʔ̃jR[|Ă܂bhEuɑ΂ĂAjR[͂́gI[hhƂtāAޏ̏hGƂȂƂ̑̈ۂȉ̂悤ɌĂ̂łB

gThe Red Bull,h the girl whispered. gAh!h She was trembling wildly, as though something were shaking and hammering at her skin from within. gHe was too strong,h she said, gtoo strong. There was no end to his strength, and no beginning. He is older than I.h

p. 117

ubhEúAv͂ꂽłԂ₫܂BuIv̂k킹Ă܂B̂̓牽hԂA@ĂƂł̂悤łBủ́A܂ɂ͂łBv͌܂Buƌł傤B̋ɂ͏IAn܂܂łB͎I[hłBv

ł͉̂AmŖ\͓IȖbł锤̃bhEu܂AjR[ƓlɁgI[hhƂȑŜł邱ƂyĂB̈ӊOȎ̓jR[̕ێgI[hhƂ̈Ӌ⊮VȏłƋɁA͂̕svcȉbg̔铽ꂽ𖾂dvȌłBbhEu̎ƂgI[hhƂ̈ÎA̐̕[ɍݍ܂ꂽ̕ɂẮAʓrɏ͂߂Č蒼Kv邾낤Bł͂ɂꓪ́AgI[hhꂽӊOȑ݂̂ƂwEɗ߂ĂBƔǰł邩̂悤ȏXłn[s[܂AjR[Ɠ̃I[hƂmɕێ̂ƂČĂ̂łBjR[p̖͂pĂ̎cEȉ߂̐gۂ̕ʂłB

The unicorn heard herself cry out, not in terror but in wonder, gOh, you are like me!h She reared joyously to meet the harpyfs stoop, and her horn leaped up into the wicked wind. The harpy struck once, missed, and swung away, her wings clanging and her breath warm and stinking. She burned overhead, and the unicorn saw herself reflected on the harpyfs bronze breast and felt the monster shining from her own body. So they circled one another like a double star, and under the shrunken sky there was nothing real but the two of them.

p. 49

jR[͎|ł͂ȂÂ߂Ɏv킸ѐƂm܂BuAȂ͎ƓIvjR[́AgXƂČ㑫ɂȂAn[s[̓ːi󂯂ė܂Bn[s[̊N׈ȕ̒ŁAjR[̊p͓˂܂Bn[s[͔тA킳A񂵂ė܂Bn[s[̗͐؂􂭂悤ɖ苿A͔Mǂ񂾑fo܂BjR[̓Ńn[s[͔RオAjR[͎̎pn[s[̐̋ɉfĂ̂܂B͎̉̑̂𔭂Ă̂łB̂悤ɂăjR[ƃn[s[͘Â悤Ɍ݂̎񂵂܂Bkݏオ̉ł́ÂQĖ{̂̂Ȃǂ͂܂łB

X܂A׈Ȃ̂ł낤ƂAg^h݂̑͂蓾̂BjR[́AgI[hhŐ^݂̑ϗ͂ŁAn[s[܂Ɠ̐_bÎł邱ƂmBɖ{݂̑́A𔭂̂łBĐ񂷂郆jR[ƃn[s[̎p͂̏ʂł́A̎ʂ΂ȂV̂łAɚgĂB̗҂̌ʑ́AeƖ{ٖ̂̋ȕ⊮֌W琬藧AF̑݌̈\ۂƂĂ̂BȂ킿A̗҂́gE{Xhyсgbh̖͂ɂ\ꂽAF̌@\̕\ۂĂ̂łB^̗]nȂAn[s[܂jR[ł̂Ɠ̈ӖŁgI[hhȂ̂łB
@̕ɂč̗pĂgI[hhƂɂ߂ēȊTÓAlł郆jR[ɂĕʂɂĂ݂̂Ȃ炸A̎vٓISɖb̍iÊ̂̉s肷邱ƂɂȂẢF萔̂悤ȋ@\ʂƂɂȂĂ̂łBɎ̂́A@gVhbN̋[^Ɗւ́gI[hhƂt̊ܒ~łBjR[ɂČĂgI[hhƂ́A܂ɂ\ȒqłVhbNɁAނ̎tiCRXƂ\Ɣނ̗^낵hƂ֘A錾tȂ̂łBVhbN̓jR[Ɏ̔閧łāAg̎ꂽ^̈ӖgI[hhƂϔO̗ɂ[̂łB

At last he said to me, eMy son, your ineptitude is so vast, your incompetence so profound, that I am certain you are inhabited by greater power than I have ever known. Unfortunately, it seems to be working backward at the moment, and even I can find no way to set it right. It must be that you are meant to find your own way to reach your power on time; but frankly, you should live so long as that will take you. Therefore I grant it that you shall not age from this day forth, but will travel the world round and round, eternally inefficient, until at last you come to yourself and know what you are. Donft thank me. I tremble at your doomfh

p. 119

ĂƂƂAiCRX͖lɍ̂łBu䂪qBO̖\͂܂ɂrłAO̖͂ɂ͂܂ɂ[Ȃ̂B炨Oɂ́AN̂Ēmʒ̈̑ȗ͂ĂɈႢ܂BcOȂÂƂ낻̗͂͋t̕ւƓĂ悤B̙NłǍ𐳂Ăp͌肻ɂȂBO͎ɔ̗͂𔭊邽߂ɂ́Agł̎i邵Ȃ̂ł낤BȂƂA̎Ɏ܂łɂ́AO͐ƒ҂˂΂Ȃʂ悤BŃA̎炨ON邱ƂȂ悤ɂĂ邱Ƃɂ悤BO͘V邱ƂȂA̖{̗͂ɓAÔȂׂ̂łm܂ŁAE܂ł͂Ȃ܂܂Ŝfr邱ƂɂȂ̂BNɊӂ邱Ƃ͂ȂBOɉۂꂽ􂢂̋낵ɁAN͐gkvBv

ł́gI[hhƂ{͐Ȃ̂e锤̊TOA܂œ̂悤ȋȐs҂ƂĐUĂ쌀IlłVhbNgɊւ߂ꂽƂ[ւ邱ƂɂȂĂ̂łBsRȒɎXeĂ̂̒mʖ@gVhbNA閈ɁgI am older than I look.hil͔͌NĂ񂾁BjƌĂƂ̗RAÊ̂ɉۂꂽ[hƂ̊ւ̋Ō蒼Ă̂łBNd˂邱ƂȂAႭnȂ܂܂łׂ^̎҂Ȃ琢EQނ̒߂́A~LXgl|ƂĂ܂􂢂󂯂Ď𓾂邱Ƃs\ɂȂAiɐEQƂ́gfr郆_lhiWandering Jewj̃C[W̌ȕϑtƂȂĂBVhbNɉۂꂽ̉^́As邱Ƃ̂Ȃ~̎ƂāA邢͎Ԑ̌E𒵖􂷂i̐VȎ􂢂ƂāAL[[hgeternalhƔ]IɊ֘ÂƂȂĂ̂łBĂ܂Ȗ\ȗL\ÎƂނ̎tiCRX̏]@̌̒ɂ锽]I@\́AΏ̓IΗvf̏zIAւƂč\ze̘_̐EƁAmȑΉ̂ƂȂĂ̂łBӖɂāA̕siDȖ@g͂܂gI[hhƂ̈[S݂ł͂̂B
@ɋ[̂́A{i̍łSIȑ݂ƂĕꐢE̎߂ׂivillainj̖𖱂߂nK[hɂČ錾tɂĂ͂ÁgI[hhƂTOɔȈӋS킳ėpĂ邱ƂłBӊOȂƂɖmȎȐw[ɂāAō̖@gĂȂ^̖𓾂邱ƂoĂȂwEꂽ܂́Aɂ̒m͂ƗނHȂӎu̒Sł鍑nK[h̎p͈ȉ̂悤ɌĂ̂łB

For a breath, he looked like a bewildered young man. gWhy no, that is true,h King Haggard murmured. gMabrukfs magic has not delighted me for a long time. How long has it been, I wonder?h

p. 129

ق̈uAnK[h͂т肵҂̂悤ȊɂȂ܂BuȂقǁA̒ʂ肾BvnK[h͂Ԃ₫܂Bu}uN̖@͂ԙNy܂邱Ƃ͂ȂBǂ̂炢ȑO炾낤Hv

nK[h̊Ɉu񂾌˘f̕\e邽߂ɂŗpĂgyounghƂt͂A܂łɌ؂ĂgbabyhgchildhƑŚgI[hhɑ΂锽ΌƂċ@\TOƂč̗pĂ邱ƂBĂ̏ʂ炩Ȃ悤ɁAnK[hg̕ێ鍪{܂ÂjR[⃌bhEuƓ悤ɁgI[hhȂ̂ł邱ƂĂ̂łB͂́gI[hhƂ́AނnK[hƂɏœ_𓖂Ăɏ߂āAXlԑ݂̒m͂ɂƂĈӖ[肪\ƂȂ锤̂̂Ȃ̂łB @炱̃L[[hgI[hh́Aڂ񂭂D̉q̎p^ттpYւ̖ڊo܂oʂA΂łȂɗތ^IȉpY̒܂łBāAɃnK[h̏̎􂢂邱ƂɂȂAnK[h̋̑qł郊AqۂɂAɏdvȊւƂƂȂĂ̂łB @AqɂāgI[hhƂt̗pꍇ́A̐܂ςpY̗̐Ll𕨌ʂɂĂłB

But the prince stood up to bar her way, and she stopped, her apron full of herbs and her hair trailing into her eyes. Prince Lirfs face bent toward her: older by five dragons, but handsome and silly still.

p. 140

ǂAq͗オāA[̑Oɗӂ܂B[͗~܂܂BGvɂ͖؂t݁ALт͖ڂ̒ɓ荞ł܂BAq̓[̕ɊX܂BhSTCȑOI[hɂȂ͂܂A܂l̗ǂȁAĐtłB

̈pɂĖ炩Ȃ悤ɃAqɂẮAނ̓}̊oƂ̌ʓIwWƂāAgI[hhƂtʓIɊpĂB̂悤ɖ{̓jR[Ƃ_bI݂̒zI邽߂̂̂ƎvĂgI[hhƂď̂ƂɏƉX̌t́A͗lX̐lǐʂ̐Ǝ˂邽߂ɁAނ떞ՂȂpĂ̂łBႦΐ̃Aq̏ꍇƂ͔΂ɁAjR[^A}VAPƂ͂܂ɂΏƓIɔڏȐlԑ݂łȂ[ʂۂɂ́A͂gI[hh̑ΏƌƂłׂgchildhƂtpĂ̂łBO܂łPA}VAPƌAȐlԑ݂̍ssт̓w͂ɑ΂Ă܂ɗWȑԓx悤ɎvA}VAPɌāAӂ߂ƂQƂȂtfĂ܂݂ڂ炵[̎peʂłB

Her voice was a childfs thin, sad mumble. She said, gBut that will never happen to you. Everyone loves you.h

p. 144

[̐́Aq̌悤ȂꂽA̔߂CȂԂ₫łBułAȂ͂ȖڂɑƂȂBNȂ̂ƂĂ̂Bv

łmɃL[[hgI[hhɔ]IɊ֘ATOƂāAgchildhƂtpĂBiȂ鑶݂̃jR[{IɁgI[hhł̂ɑ΂ĎԓIE^IɌEmoȂgmortalhȑ݂́AgI[hh̉eƂĂ̈ӖgchildhƂtĕ\Ȃ΂ȂȂ̂łB
@̊óA[߂ăjR[ɏoʂɂĂACȂĂ̂łB̂jR[̎pڂɂr[A̐lԒBƂ͈قȂĊԈႢȂjR[𓯒肷邱ƂoAl̓̓Ił锤̐ȑ݂ł郆jR[ɑ΂Ĉؕ|mȂsvcȑԓxŐڂČAǂ݂ڂ炵΂̒Nł郂[̎ṕAł⏬ȁgbhɚgĂ̂łBgyounghgchildhAĂ̗ނ́gbhӖ邱́gbeetlehƓl̓tȂ̂łB

But Molly pushed him aside and went up to the unicorn, scolding her as though she were a strayed milk cow. gWhere have you been?h Before the whiteness and the shining horn, Molly shrank to a shrilling beetle, but this time it was the unicornfs old dark eyes that looked down.

p. 83

ǂ[̓VhbN̂āAjR[ɋߕt܂BĂ̂悤ɃjR[̂łBuǂɍsĂ񂾂BvPp̃jR[̑Oł́A[̎p͂Ăb̂悤ɈނŌ܂BłxI[hȐ[ڂɍ~낵̂̓jR[̂̕łB

@ŋ[̂́AǂƂȂnK[h̏ɎpA̕s̔LɊւ邱̎wW̓Kp̔@ł낤Bsvcȏ^ăA}VAP̈̒T̗ړIւƋߕtʂƂɂȂ邱̔ĹA͂ނ܂̗IgI[hhƂeɑ̂ł邩ȂƂÎĂ邩łBႦΔނ́A[Ƃ̉b̒Ŏ̂悤ȕsȌtɂĂB̃A}VAP̐̂jR[ł邱ƂނmĂ₤[ɑ΂߂ԓłB

gAs to your first question, no cat out of its first fur can ever be deceived by appearances. Unlike human beings, who enjoy them.h

p. 148

û񂽂̎ɓƂˁALƂ͈̂xтւ邱Ƃo΁AĊOςȂǂɘf킳邱Ƃ͂Ȃ񂾂BxĊłlԒBƂ͈Ⴄ̂Bv

ȂǂƂȂAln߂̊ȔL݂̂łȂASĂ̔Lɂ߂ėOIȑݐێł邱ƂɈÎĂBɂ̌̃Aq̏،ɏ]΁AnK[h͔LƂ̓BƂ͑SƂȂʎ݂̑łƊŘ􂵂ĂƂ̂łB

He [Haggard] says that there is no such thing as a cat\it is just a shape that all manner of imps, hobs, and devilkins like to put on, to gain easy entrance into the homes of men.

p. 138

͔LȂǂƂ͂ȂƂ񂾁B͗lXȗdC␸̗ނlԂ̉Ƃɓ荞ނ߂ɑAU̎pƂ񂾁B

nK[h̉߂ɏ]΁ALƂ̂͂̈ʂ̓̈ȂǂƂ͑SقȂʎ݂̑łA̐̂͂ނ뒴R̐Eɑ鐸dC̗ނȂ̂Ƃ̂łB܂͔L܂AjR[n[s[Ɠ́gI[hhȑ咣AʂȐ_bI݂ɑ鐶łƂ̂낤H̋^_ɂẮȂ̉\EƂ͎𘨗Ɠ̕ꐢE̒Ŕނ̐߂鑶ݘ_Iʑɑ΂_lƂāA͂߂Ăɍl@[߂Ă݂Kv邾낤B
@ɋ[̂́AU^̉pYƂĂ̑ݐlA{ƂāgI[hhȑݑ̃AqA܌˘fSO̕\ʂʂɂāAgI[hh̑ΏƌłgyounghJԂ̗pĂ邱ƂłBAqɂČʂɂẮAgI[hhƁgOh̑oꂼւēKp錋ʂƂȂĂ̂łB

As a hero, he understood weeping women and knew how to make them stop crying\generally you killed something\but her calm terror confused and unmanned him, while the shape of her face crumbled the distant dignity he had been so pleased at maintaining. When he spoke again, his voice was young and stumbling.

p. 157

pYƂāAAq͏BĂꍇɁAǂ̂悤ɂċ~߂ΗǂقĂ܂B͉EΗǂ̂łBǂA}VAP̂킵ĂÂȋ|̕\͔ނA낪܂BĕP̗AqgɕtĖ𓾂ĂߊЌ󂳂Ă܂̂łBɃAqt𔭂ɂ́Aނ͎̐ႭA܂Ă܂B

pYƂĂ悤₭gɕtgI[hhƁAlẌӖł̃L[[hɑgOhƂ{̑̊Ԃŗhꓮ̂Âb̓IRm̖郊AqȂ̂łB
@āgI[hhp̎gṕAlԑ݂̒ł炭łgI[hhłɕێƎvnK[h̕\ۂɂāAނɂ߂ČʓIɍsĂ̂łBnK[hɊւāgI[hh̑ΗTOłgchildhƂꂪpꍇɂ́A͂̕ЂƂɐ؂ȁAْ̓x߂̂ɂȂ̂łBnK[h̏ɓĈȗA\ɔăjR[炵U镑s킸AȐlԂɐʂĂĂ܂悤ɌA}VAPჂ؂炵āA铽ׂ^Ă܂nK[h̗LlʂłB

Haggard was grinning at her and pointing down to the white water. gThere they are,h he said, laughing like a frightened child, gthere they are. Say that they are not your people, say that you did not come here searching for them. Say now that you have stayed all winter in my castle for love.h

p. 164

nK[h͐Oc܂ăA}VAP߁A̔A𕂂ׂCwĂ܂BuAɂBvnK[h͋q̂悤ɏ΂Ȃ猾܂Buɂ邾낤Bꂪ̒ԒBłȂƌĂ݂邪悢Bޓ߂Ă܂łĂ̂ł͂ȂƌĂ݂邪悢BȂ́ÄӖȂN̏ň~߂ȂǂƌĂ݂邪悢Bv

L[[hgI[hhƑIɊ֘Agchildh́AnK[hƂ̐̏̕łAlԑ݂̓BɒvÎ鍂簂Ȑl̐_̐ȖSLq邽߂ɗpĂ邩̂悤łB̏ʂ̌AnK[h͂Ɍt𑱂ČB

gI like to watch them. They fill me with joy.h The childish voice was all but singing. gI am sure it is joy. The first time I felt it, I thought I was going to die. There were two of them in the early morning shadows. One was drinking from a stream, and the other was resting her head on his back. I thought I was going to die. I said to Red Bull, eI must have that. I must have all of it, all there is, for my need is very great.f So the Bull caught them, one by one. It was all the same to the Bull. It would have been the same if I had demanded tumblebugs or crocodiles. He can only tell the difference between what I want and I do not want.h

p. 164-5

uޓ̎p𒭂߂Ă͖̂Bޓ͙N̐SтŖĂBvnK[h̎q̂悤Ȑ́AقƂǉ̂Ă悤łBuꂱтƂ̂̔B߂Ă̋CAN͎ł܂ƎvB̖؉A̒œ񓪂̎pĂBꓪ̉͗ꂩ琅݁Aꓪ͉̎̔wɓ悹ċx߂ĂBN͖{Ɏł܂ƎvBN͉ɖBwN͂ɓ˂΂ȂʁBSĂ̂̂ɂ˂΂ȂʁB̐ɂ̂̂̂̂ɂ̂BN̊]͉ʂĂȂ傫Bxĉ͈ꓪޓ𑨂ĂBǂɂƂĂ͈Ⴂ͂ȂBN邱Ƃ𖽂̂Ăł낤Ƃkł낤ƂႢ͂Ȃł낤B͂N̋߂̂ƂłȂ̂Ƃ̈Ⴂ邾Ȃ̂Bv

@sɂ܂Ȃɖ̂łnK[hƃbhEuƂ̊Ԃ̊֌WAjR[}ƂČĂ̂łBnK[ḧ؂ȓƔƂĂɕĂ̂́AXgCY̔sk̈ułAjqY̏Iǂł낤Bgih_ԌƂUf҃tBXgtFXɍt@EXgm̏ꍇɂāAɂ̒mƈӎulԑ݂̐_̐U̗[ɂ͉MƂłB炱́Ǎ̕IuԂƂāumvƂl𐋂ʂł̂낤B

gI suppose I was young when I first saw them,h King Haggard said. gNow I must be old\at least I have picked many more things up than I had then, and put them all down again. But I always knew that nothing was worth the investment of my heart, because nothing lasts, and I was right, and so I was always old.

p. 165

u߂Ĕޓ̎pڂɂAN͎Ⴉ̂ł낤BvnK[h͌܂BúAN͘VĂɈႢȂBȂƂN͂̍ɓĂɑ̂̂ɓAē̂ĂĂ܂BǂN͂ĂBN̐SXɂ͒lȂƂBꂸɂ邱Ƃ͌ĂȂ炾BęN̔f͐BN͂NƂĂBv

L[[hgI[hh́AjR[ɂĂ̏ꍇƂ͂܂ʂ̈ӖŁAnK[hgƐ[֘ÂłBgI[hhƂ̗ʂɏqׂĂ̂Alԑ݃nK[h̔ߌIȈꐶ邱̏ʂłBnK[ĥ̓Ɣ́AjR[̌ĂtAgI can not regret.hƂӖőIȂ̂ƂȂĂ̂łB炱̂b̑c~}ʂɂāAnK[h̍Ŋ錾t͈ȉ̂悤Ȃ̂ƂȂ̂łB

But King Haggard, who was quite real, fell down through the wreckage of his disenchanted castle like a knife dropped through clouds. Molly heard him laugh once, as though he had expected it. Very little ever surprised King Haggard.

p. 195

ǂnK[h͊ԈႢ{̂A_̒˂؂ėiCt̂悤ɖ@̉̎c[̒𗎂Ă܂B[͔ނ̎Ԃ҂󂯂Ă̂悤ɖɏ΂ɂ܂BnK[hƂ̂ł̂Ȃǖőɂ͂܂łB

nK[h̑ݑɊւāAނ܂grealhȑ݂ł邱Ƃ͂ƌĂBjR[ƃbhEuƃnK[h̎O҂̎grealhƂ̈ʑ̈قȂr؂邱ƂɂāAnK[hɂĈÎ{iEL̑ݘ_IӋƁgI[hhƂTO̔閧𖾂邱ƂɂȂ邾낤B̃nK[h̎ĂgI[hh̕ʂ邢͖͑ƂĂAAqɂČĂgI[hhƂt@\Ă̂łB烆jR[B̉Ǝꂽ̉񕜂ƂՂꂽ̃Gs[OɂāÁgAhƂȂ̐l̎ṕAȉ̂悤Ɍ邱ƂɂȂ̂łBiɃA}VAPĂ܂AT̗̖ړIĊ邱Ƃ̏oȂRmłA_~[̉pYł蓾ȂƂ炳ꂽA̎płB

King Lir let her hand fall as well, and he swung himself into the saddle so fiercely that his horse reared up across the sunrise, bugling like a stag. But Lir kept his seat and glared down at Molly and Schmendrick with a face so grim and scored and sunken that he might well have been king as long as Haggard before him.

p. 210

A̓[̎܂BĂƐUԂƔnɔя̂łAꂪ܂ɌłȂꂽ߁An͋Č㑫ɂȂȀo}Ɏ̂悤ɍb܂BǂA͂ƈƂɍ𐘂܂܁A[ƃVhbN̊sڂŌ܂B̊͂܂ɌA[ᰂ܂AܜČ̂ŁAnK[hł悤ɁAłɂƒԉł葱Ă̂悤Ɍ܂B

Aq̗eẽnK[hɑ΂ގłĂюwEĂB͔ނ茫ɁAāgI[hhɂȂʂłƋɁAɂ͎̓nK[h^AƂA錠͂Ɖ^^ꂽlԑ݈ʂ̕ێȗI\͂ƁȀh̋Ŕޓ̐Sɕ𓾂ȂAꂽ𐶂邱Ƃւ̋Xf̔Oɉꂽg̋YhĂ̂łB

(1)

@zXwCAbhxiIliadjŗpĂ悤ȑݕ̑AĂ̖̈ꕔ̂悤ɊꂽegGsZbghiepithetjƌĂ񂾖ł邪Â܂ɂڋ߂ȓ퐫ɖvݕB́AׂGsZbgARƂɑ݂̒B̒̉łĂǂA邢͊mł鑶݊Ƃ̂ł鉽ł蓾Ȃƌׂł낤Bt@^V[Ƃ͐_bƓƂwi̒ŊmȓƎ̃GsZbg֊ŝƂ̒B̌ÅLȐÊƂȂ̂łBł͑ݕ̖{Ƃ炪Ă΂閼KRƑւłČѕtĂ̂łB
@̂悤Ȑ^݂̑Ƃ̊Ԃ̘𗈂Ȍɐ邱Ƃ̒ɐ؂ȎoAwŌ̃jR[xɂĂ͂͂Ȃ͂YIȏu{ČĂBnȖ@gVhbNp@̋Z̎s̗ľʂłB

promising to turn a duck into a duke for them to rob, he produced a handful of duke cherries

p. 73

AqgݔŋɂȂݗlɕςĂ݂Ɩ񑩂ĂȂA@gۂɏoČ̂́Aꈬf[NEF[łB

̈Ӗ̗ɓ݂锤̖@̌͂ɎĂĂ܂ʁAj]gimetonymyjOeXNȋsႪɎĂ̂łB

(2)

@Cf. wAEt@^V[Ƃt@^V[xiߑ㕶YЁAQOOTjAÚAuď@ƃpv

(3)

The harpy did not move, but a cloud put out the moon.

p. 36

n[s[͐ĝ𓮂͂܂łBǂ_Č𕢂B܂B

(4)

@j[gw񎦂ώȋԂƑSFȂׂĎxz閜L͂Ƃ֌WƁA̒Ŋϑ^Lq镨@̗t镁ՂƂTOƁAʎqw̗v̋ɒЂ_̗pS̗͂̑哝ꗝ_Ē񎦂ƃGlM[Ɣg̗l̓]ɂ鑍I_̑oɕ܂ׂAϗE_Eۂ̑SĂxz镁ՓIAt@^V[̌鋆ɓIgՁhƂȂ锤̂̂Ȃ̂łB

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