Part 7 (1/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CHAPTER XI
FIRE-EATER SNEEZES AND PARDONS PINOCCHIO
The showman, Fire-Eater--for that was his name--looked like a wicked man, especially with his black beard that covered his chest and legs like an ap.r.o.n. On the whole, however, he had not a bad heart. In proof of this, when he saw poor Pinocchio brought before him, struggling and screaming ”I will not die, I will not die!” he was quite moved and felt very sorry for him. He tried to hold out, but after a little he could stand it no longer and he sneezed violently. When he heard the sneeze, Harlequin, who up to that moment had been in the deepest affliction and bowed down like a weeping willow, became quite cheerful and, leaning towards Pinocchio, he whispered to him softly:
”Good news, brother. The showman has sneezed and that is a sign that he pities you, and consequently you are saved.”
Most men, when they feel compa.s.sion for somebody, either weep or at least pretend to dry their eyes. Fire-Eater, on the contrary, whenever he was really overcome, had the habit of sneezing.
After he had sneezed, the showman, still acting the ruffian, shouted to Pinocchio:
”Have done crying! Your lamentations have given me a pain in my stomach.
I feel a spasm that almost--Etchoo! etchoo!” and he sneezed again twice.
”Bless you!” said Pinocchio.
”Thank you! And your papa and your mamma, are they still alive?” asked Fire-Eater.
”Papa, yes; my mamma I have never known.”
”Who can say what a sorrow it would be for your poor old father if I were to have you thrown amongst those burning coals! Poor old man! I pity him! Etchoo! etchoo! etchoo!” and he sneezed again three times.
”Bless you” said Pinocchio.
”Thank you! All the same, some compa.s.sion is due to me, for as you see I have no more wood with which to finish roasting my mutton, and, to tell you the truth, under the circ.u.mstances you would have been of great use to me! However, I have had pity on you, so I must have patience. Instead of you I will burn under the spit one of the puppets belonging to my company. Ho there, gendarmes!”
At this call two wooden gendarmes immediately appeared. They were very long and very thin, and had on c.o.c.ked hats, and held unsheathed swords in their hands.
The showman said to them in a hoa.r.s.e voice:
”Take Harlequin, bind him securely, and then throw him on the fire to burn. I am determined that my mutton shall be well roasted.”
Only imagine that poor Harlequin! His terror was so great that his legs bent under him, and he fell with his face on the ground.
At this agonizing sight Pinocchio, weeping bitterly, threw himself at the showman's feet and, bathing his long beard with his tears, he began to say, in a supplicating voice:
”Have pity, Sir Fire-Eater!”
”Here there are no sirs,” the showman answered severely.
”Have pity, Sir Knight!”
”Here there are no knights!”
”Have pity, Commander!”