The Marionettes recognize their brother Pinocchio, and greet him with loud
cheers; but the Director, Fire Eater, happens along and poor Pinocchio almost
loses his life
Quick as a flash, Pinocchio disappeared into the Marionette Theater. And then
something happened which almost caused a riot.
The curtain was up and the performance had started.
Harlequin and Pulcinella were reciting on the stage and, as usual, they were
threatening each other with sticks and blows.
The theater was full of people, enjoying the spectacle and laughing till they cried
at the antics of the two Marionettes.
The play continued for a few minutes, and then suddenly, without any warning,
Harlequin stopped talking. Turning toward the audience, he pointed to the rear of
the orchestra, yelling wildly at the same time:
"Look, look! Am I asleep or awake? Or do I really see Pinocchio there?"
"Yes, yes! It is Pinocchio!" screamed Pulcinella.
"It is! It is!" shrieked Signora Rosaura, peeking in from the side of the stage.
"It is Pinocchio! It is Pinocchio!" yelled all the Marionettes, pouring out of the
wings. "It is Pinocchio. It is our brother Pinocchio! Hurrah for Pinocchio!"
"Pinocchio, come up to me!" shouted Harlequin. "Come to the arms of your
wooden brothers!"
At such a loving invitation, Pinocchio, with one leap from the back of the
orchestra, found himself in the front rows. With another leap, he was on the
orchestra leader's head. With a third, he landed on the stage.
It is impossible to describe the shrieks of joy, the warm embraces, the knocks,
and the friendly greetings with which that strange company of dramatic actors
and actresses received Pinocchio.
It was a heart-rending spectacle, but the audience, seeing that the play had
stopped, became angry and began to yell:
"The play, the play, we want the play!"
The yelling was of no use, for the Marionettes, instead of going on with their act,
made twice as much racket as before, and, lifting up Pinocchio on their
shoulders, carried him around the stage in triumph.
At that very moment, the Director came out of his room. He had such a fearful
appearance that one look at him would fill you with horror. His beard was as
black as pitch, and so long that it reached from his chin down to his feet. His
mouth was as wide as an oven, his teeth like yellow fangs, and his eyes, two
glowing red coals. In his huge, hairy hands, a long whip, made of green snakes
and black cats' tails twisted together, swished through the air in a dangerous
way.
At the unexpected apparition, no one dared even to breathe. One could almost
hear a fly go by. Those poor Marionettes, one and all, trembled like leaves in a
storm.
"Why have you brought such excitement into my theater;" the huge fellow asked
Pinocchio with the voice of an ogre suffering with a cold.
"Believe me, your Honor, the fault was not mine."
"Enough! Be quiet! I'll take care of you later."
As soon as the play was over, the Director went to the kitchen, where a fine big
lamb was slowly turning on the spit. More wood was needed to finish cooking it.
He called Harlequin and Pulcinella and said to them:
"Bring that Marionette to me! He looks as if he were made of well-seasoned
wood. He'll make a fine fire for this spit."
Harlequin and Pulcinella hesitated a bit. Then, frightened by a look from their
master, they left the kitchen to obey him. A few minutes later they returned,
carrying poor Pinocchio, who was wriggling and squirming like an eel and crying
pitifully:
"Father, save me! I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"