And
then something happened which almost caused a riot.
The curtain was up and the performance had started.
Harlequin and Pulcinella were reciting on the stage and, as usual, they
were threatening each other with sticks and blows.
The theater was full of people, enjoying the spectacle and laughing till
they cried at the antics of the two Marionettes.
The play continued for a few minutes, and then suddenly, without any
warning, Harlequin stopped talking. Turning toward the audience, he
pointed to the rear of the orchestra, yelling wildly at the same time:
"Look, look! Am I asleep or awake? Or do I really see Pinocchio there?"
"Yes, yes! It is Pinocchio!" screamed Pulcinella.
"It is! It is!" shrieked Signora Rosaura, peeking in from the side of
the stage.
"It is Pinocchio! It is Pinocchio!" yelled all the Marionettes, pouring
out of the wings. "It is Pinocchio. It is our brother Pinocchio! Hurrah
for Pinocchio!"
"Pinocchio, come up to me!" shouted Harlequin. "Come to the arms of your
wooden brothers!"
At such a loving invitation, Pinocchio, with one leap from the back of
the orchestra, found himself in the front rows.
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