佛莫瑞人心想现在安全了，于是来到路边一座空着的城堡中，歇脚下来举行宴会，并且把偷来的魔琴挂在了墙上。
Then they thought they were safe, and they turned aside into a vacant castle, by the road, and sat down to a banquet, hanging the stolen harp on the wall.
达格达拿起魔琴，在琴弦上用手重重地扫出三个庄严的弦音。
And the Dagda took his harp and swept his hand across the strings in three great, solemn chords.
当达格达再一次轻轻地触弄他的魔琴时，一种甜蜜、轻柔，如梦似幻的音乐悄悄地流淌出来：这就是美梦的乐音。
Once more the Dagda touched his harp, but very, very softly. And now a music stole forth as soft as dreams, and as sweet as joy: it was the magic Music of Sleep.
于是魔琴响起了悲伤的乐音。
等他们都睡熟了，达格达拿起魔琴，带着金发战士们悄悄地离开了，平安地回到了他们自己的领地。
When they were all deep in slumber, the Dagda took his magic harp, and he and his golden-haired warriors stole softly away, and came in safety to their own homes again.
魔琴认得了主人的声音，从墙上一跃而起，盘旋着扫过大堂，杀死了一路上挡住它去路的人，收回到主人的手里。
The great harp recognized its master's voice, and leaped from the wall. Whirling through the hall, sweeping aside and killing the men who got in its way, it sprang to its master's hand.
我们常常把这些故事叫做传说。 接下来，我要给大家讲的故事就是这些传说中最动人的一个——达格达魔琴的故事。
One of the prettiest legends is the story I am going to tell you about the Dagda's harp.
我们常常把这些故事叫做传说。 接下来，我要给大家讲的故事就是这些传说中最动人的一个——达格达魔琴的故事。
One of the prettiest legends is the story I am going to tell you about the Dagda's harp.
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