LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER 11

       Fire-eater sneezes and pardons Pinocchio, who later saves the life of his friend Harlequin

      Fire-eater, for that was the Showman’s name, looked a horrid man, there can be no doubt about it, particularly with his black beard hanging down like an apron covering his chest and legs. Yet at heart, he was really not so bad. When he saw poor Pinocchio struggling and crying, ‘I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!’ he felt sorry for him and, although he tried not to, at last he could not help it and sneezed violently.

      Harlequin, who had been sad and downhearted, and looking like a weeping willow, when he heard that sneeze, became cheerful, and bending towards Pinocchio, whispered, ‘Good news, brother! The Showman has sneezed. That’s a sign that he’s pitying you, and you are saved.’

      For you must know that, whilst other men weep, or at least pretend to wipe their eyes, when they pity somebody, whenever Fire-eater really pitied anyone, he had the habit of sneezing.

      After the Showman had sneezed, he continued speaking gruffly, and shouted at Pinocchio, ‘Can’t you stop crying? It gives me a nasty feeling in my stomach. I feel such a pain that … that … Atchoo! Atchoo!’ – and this time he sneezed twice.

      ‘God bless you!’ said Pinocchio.

      ‘Thank you. And your father and mother, are they alive?’ asked Fire-eater.

      ‘My father is, but I never knew my mother.’

      ‘Who knows how sorry your old father would be if I threw you on the fire! Poor old man! I pity him. A-tchoo! A-tchoo! A-tchoo!’ – and he sneezed three times.

      ‘Bless you!’ cried Pinocchio.

      ‘Thank you. But on the other hand, you must be sorry for me, too, because, as you see, I haven’t enough wood to finish roasting my mutton – and believe me, you certainly would have been very useful. But now I have spared you, and I must not complain. Instead of you, I shall burn some puppet of my company under the spit. Come on, gendarmes!’

      Two wooden gendarmes appeared immediately at this command. They were very tall, and very thin. They wore helmets, and carried drawn swords in their hands.

      The Showman ordered them hoarsely, ‘Take that Harlequin, bind him strongly and throw him on the fire. My mutton must be well roasted!’

      Imagine poor Harlequin! He was so frightened that his legs bent under him, and he fell on his face.

      At this heart-breaking sight, Pinocchio knelt down at the Showman’s feet and, weeping, he soused with tears the whole length of his long beard. Then he pleaded, ‘Have mercy, Sir Fire-eater!’

      ‘There are no sirs here!’ replied the Showman, sternly.

      ‘Have mercy, cavalier!’

      ‘There are no cavaliers here!’

      ‘Have mercy, commander!’

      ‘There are no commanders here!’

      ‘Have mercy, Your Excellency!’

      When he heard himself called Your Excellency, the Showman smiled with his lips and, suddenly growing kind and calmer, asked Pinocchio, ‘Well, what can I do for you?’

      ‘I implore you to pardon poor Harlequin!’

      ‘It cannot be done. As I pardoned you, I must put him on the fire, for my mutton must be well roasted.’

      ‘In that case,’ cried Pinocchio, rising and throwing away his cap of bread, ‘in that case, I know my duty. Forward, gendarmes! Bind me and throw me in the fire! It is not just that poor Harlequin, my truest friend, should die for me.’

      These words, shouted in a loud, heroic voice, caused all the marionettes present to weep. Even the gendarmes, although made of wood, cried like newborn babies.

      At first Fire-eater remained as hard and cold as ice: slowly he began to melt, and to sneeze. When he had sneezed four or five times, he opened his arms affectionately to Pinocchio, saying, ‘You are a good, brave boy! Come here, and give me a kiss.’

      Pinocchio ran quickly and, climbing up the Showman’s beard like a squirrel, gave him a loud kiss on the tip of his nose.

      ‘And is my life spared?’ asked poor Harlequin, in a trembling voice that could hardly be heard.

      ‘Your life is spared,’ replied Fire-eater. Then he added, shaking his head, ‘Very well, then! This evening I must eat my mutton half done; but another time, woe to him who …!’

      When they knew that their brothers were pardoned, all the puppets ran back to the stage, lit all the lights as for a festive performance, and began to jump and dance. They were still dancing at dawn.