Carlo Collodi - Приключения Пиноккио / The adventures of Pinocchio. Уровень 1

Pinocchio freed himself from the claws of his assailers and ran swiftly across the fields. He climbed up a giant pine tree and sat there. The Robbers tried to climb also, but they slipped and fell.

They gathered a bundle of wood, and set fire to it [18]   set fire to it – подожгли . The tree began to sputter and burn. The flames climbed higher and higher. Pinocchio jumped quickly to the ground and ran away.

But soon Pinocchio saw a deep pool full of dirty water. With a “One, two, three!” he jumped clear across it. The Robbers jumped also, but-splash! – they fell right into the middle of the pool.

“A pleasant bath to you, signori!” Pinocchio cried.

Suddenly the Marionette saw a little cottage among the trees of the forest. He darted swiftly through the woods, the Robbers still after him.

Finally Pinocchio reached the door of the cottage and knocked. No one answered. He knocked again. The same silence followed.

Pinocchio, in despair, began to kick and bang against the door. At the noise, a window opened and a lovely maiden looked out. She had azure hair and a face white as wax. She whispered:

“No one lives in this house. Everyone is dead.”

“Won’t you open the door for me?” cried Pinocchio.

“I also am dead.”

“Dead? What do you do here, then?”

“I wait for the coffin.”

After these words, the little girl disappeared and the window closed.

“Oh, Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair,” cried Pinocchio, “please, open the door! I’m just a poor boy and two Rob-”

He did not finish, for two powerful hands grasped him by the neck and the same two horrible voices growled:

“Now we have you!”

The Marionette trembled and the coins tinkled under his tongue.

“Well,” the Robbers asked, “will you open your mouth now or not? Ah! You do not answer? Very well, this time you will open it. We’ll hang you.”

They tied Pinocchio’s hands behind his shoulders and slipped the noose around his neck. Then they sat on the grass. But after three hours the Marionette’s eyes were still open, his mouth still shut.

The Robbers told him mockingly:

“Good-bye till tomorrow. When we return in the morning, we hope you’ll be polite enough to open your mouth.”

With these words they went. A few minutes went by and then a wild wind started to blow. As it shrieked and moaned, the poor little sufferer went to and fro. The Marionette murmured to himself:

“Oh, Father, dear Father! Where are you?”

These were his last words. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and stretched out his legs.

Luckily for the poor Marionette, the Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair once again looked out of her window. She saw him and clapped her hands sharply together three times. At the signal, a large Falcon came and settled itself on the window ledge.

“What do you command, my charming Fairy?” asked the Falcon (for the Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair was a very kind Fairy who lived in the forest).

“Do you see that Marionette?”

“I see him.”

“Very well. Fly immediately to him. With your strong beak, break the knot which holds him, take him down, and lay him softly on the grass.”

The Falcon flew away and after two minutes returned,

“Ready.”

“How did you find him? Alive or dead?”

“I thought he was dead. But he mumbled with a faint voice, ‘Now I feel better!’”

The Fairy clapped her hands twice. A magnificent Poodle appeared. He was dressed in court livery. He wore a jaunty coat of velvet, with diamond buttons, and his huge pockets were always full of bones.

“Come, Medoro,” said the Fairy to him. “Take my best coach and go to the forest. Near the oak tree, you will find a poor Marionette on the grass. Lift him up tenderly, place him on the silken cushions of the coach, and bring him here to me.”

In a few minutes, a lovely little coach pulled out of the stable. One hundred pairs of white mice drew it. The Poodle sat on the coachman’s seat.

In a quarter of an hour the coach was back. The Fairy lifted the poor little Marionette in her arms, put him to bed, and sent immediately for the most famous doctors. They were a Crow, and Owl, and a Cricket.

“I want to know, signori,” said the Fairy, “if this poor Marionette is dead or alive.”

The Crow stepped out and felt Pinocchio’s pulse, his nose, his little toe. Then he solemnly pronounced the following words:

“To my mind this Marionette is dead and gone. But if he, by any evil chance, is not dead, then that will be a sign that he is still alive!”

“I am sorry,” said the Owl, “to contradict the Crow, my famous friend and colleague. I think that this Marionette is alive. But if he, by any evil chance, is not alive, then that will be a sign that he is dead!”

“And what is your opinion?” the Fairy asked the Cricket.

“This Marionette is not a stranger to me. I know him well!”

Pinocchio shuddered so hard that the bed shook.

“That Marionette,” continued the Cricket, “is a rascal.”

Pinocchio opened his eyes and closed them again.

“He is rude, lazy, a runaway.”

Pinocchio hid his face under the sheets.

“That Marionette is a disobedient son!”

They heard long sobs, cries, and deep sighs. Then they raised the sheets and discovered Pinocchio in tears!

“When the dead weep, they recover,” said the Crow solemnly.

“I am sorry to contradict my famous friend and colleague,” said the Owl, “but I think that when the dead weep, it means they do not want to die.”

The doctors left the room. The Fairy went to Pinocchio’s bed and touched him on the forehead. A fever!

She took a glass of water, put a white powder into it, and handed it to the Marionette:

“Drink this, and in a few days you’ll be well.”

Pinocchio looked at the glass, made a wry face, and asked:

“Is it sweet or bitter?”

“It is bitter, but it is good for you.”

“If it is bitter, I don’t want it.”

“Drink it!”

“I don’t like anything bitter.”

“Drink it and I’ll give you a lump of sugar.”

“Where’s the sugar?”

“Here it is,” said the Fairy, and took a lump from a golden sugar bowl.

“I want the sugar first, then I’ll drink the bitter water.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes.”

The Fairy gave him the sugar and Pinocchio swallowed it. Then he took the glass in both hands and stuck his nose into it.

“It is too bitter, much too bitter! I can’t drink it. I want another lump of sugar, then I’ll drink it.”

The Fairy gave him more sugar.

“I can’t drink it like that,” the Marionette said.

“Why?”

“Because that feather pillow on my feet bothers me.”

The Fairy took away the pillow.

“I can’t drink it even now.”

“What’s the matter now?”

“I don’t like that door. It’s half open.”

The Fairy closed the door.

“I won’t drink it,” cried Pinocchio. “I won’t drink this awful water. I won’t. I won’t! No, no, no, no!”

“My boy, you are very sick.”

“I don’t care.”

“In a few hours you’ll die.”

“I don’t care.”

“Aren’t you afraid of death?”

“Not a bit. Better to die than drink that awful medicine.”

At that moment, the door of the room opened and four Rabbits as black as ink, brought a small black coffin on their shoulders.