He knocked again, harder than before, for behind him
he heard the steps and the labored breathing of his
persecutors. The same silence followed.
As knocking was of no use, Pinocchio, in despair,
began to kick and bang against the door, as if he wanted
to break it. At the noise, a window opened and a lovely
maiden looked out. She had azure hair and a face white
as wax. Her eyes were closed and her hands crossed on
her breast. With a voice so weak that it hardly could be
heard, she whispered:
"No one lives in this house. Everyone is dead."
"Won't you, at least, open the door for me?"
cried Pinocchio in a beseeching voice.
"I also am dead."
"Dead? What are you doing at the window, then?"
"I am
waiting for the
coffin to take me away."
After these words, the little girl disappeared and the
window closed without a sound.
"Oh, Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair," cried
Pinocchio, "open, I beg of you. Take pity on a poor boy who
is being chased by two Assass--"
He did not finish, for two powerful hands grasped him
by the neck and the same two
horrible voices growled
threateningly: "Now we have you!"
The Marionette,
seeing death dancing before him,
trembled so hard that the joints of his legs rattled and
the coins tinkled under his tongue.
"Well," the Assassins asked, "will you open your
mouth now or not? Ah! You do not answer? Very well,
this time you shall open it."
Taking out two long, sharp
knives, they struck two
heavy blows on the Marionette's back.
Happily for him, Pinocchio was made of very hard
wood and the
knives broke into a thousand pieces. The
Assassins looked at each other in
dismay,
holding the
handles of the
knives in their hands.
"I understand," said one of them to the other, "there
is nothing left to do now but to hang him."
"To hang him,"
repeated the other.
They tied Pinocchio's hands behind his shoulders and
slipped the noose around his neck. Throwing the rope
over the high limb of a giant oak tree, they pulled till
the poor Marionette hung far up in space.
Satisfied with their work, they sat on the grass
waitingfor Pinocchio to give his last gasp. But after three hours
the Marionette's eyes were still open, his mouth still shut
and his legs kicked harder than ever.
Tired of
waiting, the Assassins called to him mockingly:
"Good-by till tomorrow. When we return in the morning,
we hope you'll be
polite enough to let us find you
dead and gone and with your mouth wide open."
With these words they went.
A few minutes went by and then a wild wind started
to blow. As it shrieked and moaned, the poor little
sufferer was blown to and fro like the
hammer of a bell.
The rocking made him seasick and the noose, becoming
tighter and tighter, choked him. Little by little a film
covered his eyes.
Death was creeping nearer and nearer, and the Marionette
still hoped for some good soul to come to his rescue,
but no one appeared. As he was about to die, he thought
of his poor old father, and hardly
conscious of what he
was
saying, murmured to himself:
"Oh, Father, dear Father! If you were only here!"
These were his last words. He closed his eyes, opened
his mouth, stretched out his legs, and hung there, as if
he were dead.
CHAPTER 16
The Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair sends for the poor Marionette,
puts him to bed, and calls three Doctors to tell her if Pinocchio
is dead or alive
If the poor Marionette had dangled there much longer,
all hope would have been lost. Luckily for him, the
Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair once again looked out of
her window. Filled with pity at the sight of the poor little
fellow being knocked
helplessly about by the wind, she
clapped her hands
sharply together three times.
At the signal, a loud whirr of wings in quick
flight was
heard and a large Falcon came and settled itself on the
window ledge.
"What do you command, my
charming Fairy?" asked the Falcon,
bending his beak in deep
reverence (for it must
be known that, after all, the Lovely Maiden with Azure
Hair was none other than a very kind Fairy who had lived,
for more than a thousand years, in the
vicinity of the forest).
"Do you see that Marionette
hanging from the limb
of that giant oak tree?"
"I see him."
"Very well. Fly immediately to him. With your
strong beak, break the knot which holds him tied,
take him down, and lay him
softly on the grass
at the foot of the oak."
The Falcon flew away and after two minutes returned,
saying, "I have done what you have commanded."
"How did you find him? Alive or dead?"
"At first glance, I thought he was dead. But I found
I was wrong, for as soon as I loosened the knot around
his neck, he gave a long sigh and mumbled with a faint
voice, `Now I feel better!'"
The Fairy clapped her hands twice. A magnificent
Poodle appeared, walking on his hind legs just like a
man. He was dressed in court
livery. A tricorn trimmed
with gold lace was set at a rakish angle over a wig of white
curls that dropped down to his waist. He wore a jaunty
coat of chocolate-colored
velvet, with diamond buttons,
and with two huge pockets which were always filled with
bones, dropped there at dinner by his
loving mistress.
Breeches of
crimsonvelvet, silk stockings, and low,
silver-buckled slippers completed his
costume. His tail
was encased in a blue silk covering, which was to protect
it from the rain.
"Come, Medoro," said the Fairy to him. "Get my
best coach ready and set out toward the forest. On
reaching the oak tree, you will find a poor, half-dead
Marionette stretched out on the grass. Lift him up
tenderly, place him on the
silken cushions of the coach,
and bring him here to me."
The Poodle, to show that he understood, wagged his silk-covered tail
two or three times and set off at a quick pace.
In a few minutes, a lovely little coach, made of glass,
with
lining as soft as whipped cream and chocolate pudding,
and stuffed with
canary feathers, pulled out of the
stable. It was drawn by one hundred pairs of white mice,
and the Poodle sat on the coachman's seat and snapped
his whip gayly in the air, as if he were a real coachman
in a hurry to get to his destination.
In a quarter of an hour the coach was back. The
Fairy, who was
waiting at the door of the house, lifted
the poor little Marionette in her arms, took him to a
dainty room with mother-of-pearl walls, put him to bed,
and sent immediately for the most famous doctors of the
neighborhood to come to her.
One after another the doctors came, a Crow, and Owl,
and a Talking Cricket.
"I should like to know, signori," said the Fairy, turning
to the three doctors gathered about Pinocchio's bed,
"I should like to know if this poor Marionette is dead or alive."
At this
invitation, the Crow stepped out and felt
Pinocchio's pulse, his nose, his little toe.
Then he
solemnlypronounced the following words:
"To my mind this Marionette is dead and gone; but if,
by any evil chance, he were not, then that would be a
sure sign that he is still alive!"
"I am sorry," said the Owl, "to have to
contradictthe Crow, my famous friend and
colleague. To my mind
this Marionette is alive; but if, by any evil chance, he
were not, then that would be a sure sign that he is
wholly dead!"
"And do you hold any opinion?" the Fairy asked the Talking Cricket.
"I say that a wise doctor, when he does not know what he
is talking about, should know enough to keep his mouth shut.
However, that Marionette is not a stranger to me.
I have known him a long time!"
Pinocchio, who until then had been very quiet,
shuddered so hard that the bed shook.
"That Marionette," continued the Talking Cricket,
"is a
rascal of the worst kind."
Pinocchio opened his eyes and closed them again.
"He is rude, lazy, a runaway."
Pinocchio hid his face under the sheets.
"That Marionette is a disobedient son who is breaking
his father's heart!"
Long shuddering sobs were heard, cries, and deep sighs.
Think how surprised
everyone was when, on raising the sheets,
they discovered Pinocchio half melted in tears!
"When the dead weep, they are
beginning to recover,"
said the Crow
solemnly.
"I am sorry to
contradict my famous friend and
colleague,"
said the Owl, "but as far as I'm
concerned, I think that
when the dead weep, it means they do not want to die."
CHAPTER 17
Pinocchio eats sugar, but refuses to take medicine.
When the undertakers come for him, he drinks the medicine and feels better.
Afterwards he tells a lie and, in
punishment, his nose grows longer and longer
As soon as the three doctors had left the room, the Fairy
went to Pinocchio's bed and,
touching him on the forehead,
noticed that he was burning with fever.
She took a glass of water, put a white powder into
it, and, handing it to the Marionette, said
lovingly to him:
"Drink this, and in a few days you'll be up and well."
Pinocchio looked at the glass, made a wry face, and
asked in a whining voice: "Is it sweet or bitter?"
"It is bitter, but it is good for you."
"If it is bitter, I don't want it."
"Drink it!"
"I don't like anything bitter."
"Drink it and I'll give you a lump of sugar to take the
bitter taste from your mouth."
"Where's the sugar?"
"Here it is," said the Fairy,
taking a lump from a golden
sugar bowl.
"I want the sugar first, then I'll drink the bitter water."
"Do you promise?"
"Yes."
The Fairy gave him the sugar and Pinocchio, after chewing
and swallowing it in a twinkling, said, smacking his lips:
"If only sugar were medicine! I should take it every day."
"Now keep your promise and drink these few drops
of water. They'll be good for you."
Pinocchio took the glass in both hands and stuck his
nose into it. He lifted it to his mouth and once more
stuck his nose into it.