The judge was a big ape of the gorilla tribe, an old ape respectable for his age, his white beard, but especially for his gold spectacles without glasses that he was always obliged to wear, on account of an inflammation of the eyes that had tormented him for many years.
Pinocchio related in the presence of the judge all the particulars of the infamous fraud of which he had been the victim. He gave the names, the surnames, and other details, of the two rascals, and ended by demanding justice.
The judge listened with great benignity; took a lively interest in the story; was much touched and moved; and when the puppet had nothing further to say he stretched out his hand and rang a bell.
At this summons two mastiffs immediately appeared dressed as gendarmes. The judge then, pointing to Pinocchio, said to them:
“That poor devil has been robbed of four gold pieces; take him away and put him immediately into prison.”
The puppet was petrified on hearing this unexpected sentence and tried to protest; but the gendarmes, to avoid losing time, stopped his mouth and carried him off to the lockup.
And there he remained for four months—four long months—and he would have remained longer still if a fortunate chance had not released him. The young Emperor who reigned over the town of “Trap for Blockheads,” having won a splendid victory over his enemies, ordered great public rejoicings. There were illuminations, fireworks, horse races and velocipede races, and as a further sign of triumph he commanded that the prisons should be opened and all the prisoners freed.
“If the others are to be let out of prison, I will go also,” said Pinocchio to the jailor.
“No, not you,” said the jailor, “because you do not belong to the fortunate class.”
“I beg your pardon,” replied Pinocchio, “I am also a criminal.”
“In that case you are perfectly right,” said the jailor, and, taking off his hat and bowing to him respectfully, he opened the prison doors and let him escape.
XX
Pinocchio Starts Back to the Fairy’s House
You can imagine Pinocchio’s joy when he found himself free. Without stopping to take breath he immediately left the town and took the road that led to the Fairy’s house.
On account of the rainy weather the road had become a marsh into which he sank knee-deep. But the puppet would not give in. Tormented by the desire of seeing his father and his little sister with blue hair again, he ran on like a greyhound, and as he ran he was splashed with mud from head to foot. And he said to himself as he went along: “How many misfortunes have happened to me. But I deserved them, for I am an obstinate, passionate puppet. I am always bent upon having my own way, without listening to those who wish me well, and who have a thousand times more sense than I have! But from this time forth I am determined to change and to become orderly and obedient. For at last I have seen that disobedient boys come to no good and gain nothing. And has my papa waited for me? Shall I find him at the Fairy’s house? Poor man, it is so long since I last saw him: I am dying to embrace him and to cover him with kisses! And will the Fairy forgive me my bad conduct to her? To think of all the kindness and loving care I received from her, to think that if I am now alive I owe it to her! Would it be possible to find a more ungrateful boy, or one with less heart than I have?”
Whilst he was saying this he stopped suddenly, frightened to death, and made four steps backwards.
What had he seen?
He had seen an immense Serpent stretched across the road. Its skin was green, it had red eyes, and a pointed tail that was smoking like a chimney.
It would be impossible to imagine the puppet’s terror. He walked away to a safe distance and, sitting down on a heap of stones, waited until the Serpent should have gone about its business and left the road clear.
He waited an hour; two hours; three hours; but the Serpent was always there, and even from a distance he could see the red light of his fiery eyes and the column of smoke that ascended from the end of his tail.
At last Pinocchio, trying to feel courageous, approached to within a few steps, and said to the Serpent in a little soft, insinuating voice:
“Excuse me. Sir Serpent, but would you be so good as to move a little to one side—just enough to allow me to pass?”
He might as well have spoken to the wall. Nobody moved.
He began again in the same soft voice:
“You must know. Sir Serpent, that I am on my way home, where my father is waiting for me, and it is such a long time since I saw him last! Will you, therefore, allow me to continue my road?”
He waited for a sign in answer to this request, but there was none; in fact, the Serpent, who up to that moment had been sprightly and full of life, became motionless and almost rigid. He shut his eyes and his tail ceased smoking.
“Can he really be dead?” said Pinocchio, rubbing his hands with delight. He determined to jump over him and reach the other side of the road. But, just as he was going to leap, the Serpent raised himself suddenly on end, like a spring set in motion; and the puppet, drawing back, in his terror caught his feet and fell to the ground.
And he fell so awkwardly that his head stuck in the mud and his legs went into the air.
At the sight of the puppet kicking violently with his head in the mud, the Serpent
