but the eyes of fire and the smoking tail. Then, screwing up his courage, the marionette approached within a few paces of the serpent and said in a kind, sweet voice: “Excuse me, Mr. Serpent; would you oblige me by moving to one side so that I can pass?” It was as if he talked to a wall. There was no response.
Then Pinocchio said in the same kind tone: “You must know, Mr. Serpent, that I am going home, where my papa is waiting for me. Are you willing that I should pass and go on my way?”
He waited for some sign of response, but the reply did not come. On the contrary, the serpent, which until then had been quite lively, became quiet and nearly benumbed. His eyes closed and his tail stopped smoking.
“He is dead, truly,” thought Pinocchio, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. Without waiting any longer, he started to jump over him so as to pass to the other side. But he had hardly lifted his leg when the serpent rose suddenly, like a spring let loose. The marionette, trying to jump back, tripped and fell to the ground with such force that he landed with his head half stuck in the mud and his feet in the air.
At the sight of the marionette kicking his legs with incredible velocity the serpent was seized with
