The Adventures of Pinocchio (1904)/Chapter 15
Then the marionette, losing his courage, was on the point of throwing himself on the ground and giving himself up as conquered, when, looking around, he saw in the middle of a dark forest, shining afar, a candied house, white as snow. “If I have enough breath to reach that house, perhaps I shall be saved,” he said to himself. And without delaying a minute, he began to run through the forest as fast as he could. The assassins still followed him.
Finally, after a desperate run of two hours, he arrived, out of breath, at the door of the house and knocked. No one replied. He knocked again with great force because he heard approaching the steps and heavy breathing of his pursuers. The same silence.
Seeing that the knocking did not have any effect, he began to kick and beat the door in desperation. Then there appeared at the door a beautiful Baby with blue hair and a white face, like a waxen image, with her hands crossed on her breast. Scarcely moving her lips, she said, “In this house there is no one; they are all dead.”
“Open at least for me, won’t you?” cried Pinocchio, weeping.
“I am also dead.”
“Dead? and then how is it that you are at the window?”
“I am waiting for the hearse to carry me away.”
Scarcely had she said this when the Baby disappeared and the window closed without making any noise.
“Oh, beautiful Baby with the Blue Hair,” cried Pinocchio, “open the door, for goodness’ sake! Have compassion on a poor boy followed by assass—” But he could not finish the word because he felt himself seized by the neck and he heard the two bad voices scolding him and crying, “Now you can run away no more.”
The marionette, seeing death staring him in the face, trembled; so that all his joints made a great noise and the four gold pieces jingled in his mouth.
“Then,” said the assassins, “will you open your mouth? Yes or no? Ah, you do not reply? All right! This time we will open it!” And they took two knives, sharp as razors, and—zaff-zaff—they gave him two strokes in the middle of the back.
Fortunately the marionette was made of good hard wood. The blades of the knives broke into several pieces and the assassins were left looking at each other, with only the handles in their hands.
“I understand,” said one of them. “We must hang him. Let us hang him, then.”
“Let us hang him,” said the other.
No sooner said than done. They bound his hands and, slipping a noose around his throat, hanged him to a branch of a tree called the Grand Oak. Then they sat down on the ground, waiting until the marionette should make his last kick. After three hours, however, the marionette’s eyes were still open and his mouth was closed, and he kicked harder than ever.
Finally, annoyed by this long delay, they turned to Pinocchio and said to him, laughing out loud: “Good-by until to-morrow morning! When we return here we hope that you will be polite enough to die and have your mouth opened wide.” And they went away.
Meanwhile a great wind began to blow Pinocchio backward and forward, just like a large bell. And while he was swinging the rope tightened and tightened so that he could hardly swallow. Little by little his eyes grew dim. Although he felt death approaching, yet he hoped every moment that some one would come and save him. But when he found that no one would help him he remembered his poor papa and stammered, “Oh, my Papa, if you were only here now!” But he had no breath to say any more. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, stretched his legs, and, with a last shudder, remained as if dead.