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Updated: May 25, 2025
And I am very far from disparaging the Burattini, which have great and peculiar merits, not the least of which is the art of drawing the most delighted, dirty, and picturesque audiences. Like most of the Marionette, they converse vicariously in the Venetian dialect, and have such a rapidity of utterance that it is difficult to follow them.
"If you lost them in the near-by wood," said the Fairy, "we'll look for them and find them, for everything that is lost there is always found." "Ah, now I remember," replied the Marionette, becoming more and more confused. "I did not lose the gold pieces, but I swallowed them when I drank the medicine."
Racing-liners with twin-screws sing "The Turkish Patrol" and the overture to the "Bronze Horse," and "Madame Angot," till something goes wrong, and then they render Gounod's "Funeral March of a Marionette," with variations. "You'll learn a song of your own some fine day," said the Steam, as he flew up the fog-horn for one last bellow.
A figure upon horseback swings round the bend in the road. "Here's an officer, Johnny!" cries a friendly voice from the farm gate. Petit Jean, as upright as a post, brings his rifle from stand-at-ease to the order, and from the order to the slope, with the epileptic jerkiness of a marionette, and scrutinises the approaching officer for stars and crowns.
"Let us stop a few minutes at that pigeon coop down there. Then we can go on and be at the seashore in the morning." They went into the empty coop and there they found nothing but a bowl of water and a small basket filled with chick-peas. The Marionette had always hated chick-peas. According to him, they had always made him sick; but that night he ate them with a relish.
I found the fog bemusing, lost all idea of time and space, and felt like a senseless marionette kicking and jerking to a mad music without tune or time. The misty form of Davies as he sat with his right arm swinging rhythmically forward and back, was a clockwork figure as mad as myself, but didactic and gibbering in his madness.
They went and knocked at the door. "Who is it?" said a little voice from within. "A poor father and a poorer son, without food and with no roof to cover them," answered the Marionette. "Turn the key and the door will open," said the same little voice. Pinocchio turned the key and the door opened. As soon as they went in, they looked here and there and everywhere but saw no one.
He took hold of the Marionette under the arms and put him on the floor to teach him to walk. Pinocchio's legs were so stiff that he could not move them, and Geppetto held his hand and showed him how to put out one foot after the other. When his legs were limbered up, Pinocchio started walking by himself and ran all around the room.
But, nothing daunted, he jumped to his feet and cried: "Once more I have escaped with my life!" Little by little the sky cleared. The sun came out in full splendor and the sea became as calm as a lake. Then the Marionette took off his clothes and laid them on the sand to dry. He looked over the waters to see whether he might catch sight of a boat with a little man in it.
With a profound sigh her bosom heaves, her arms fall to her side, her body is humbly bent forward as if in complete surrender, and as if to say: Ask what you will! "My condition is that you afterward reveal yourself." She nods stiffly, like a marionette. "Swear to it!" She raises her arm for the oath, but the gray folds still conceal her hand. "Woe betide you if you deceive me!"
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