"Faster, Pinocchio! The monster will get you! There he is! There he is! Quick, quick, or you are lost!"
Pinocchio went through the water like a shot—swifter and swifter. He came close to the rock.
The Goat leaned over and gave him one of her hoofs to help him up out of the water. Alas! It was too late.
The monster overtook him and the Marionette found himself in between the rows of gleaming white teeth.
Only for a moment, however, for the Shark took a deep breath and, as he breathed,
he drank in the Marionette as easily as he would have sucked an egg.
Then he swallowed him so fast that Pinocchio, falling down into the body of the fish, lay stunned for a half hour.
When he recovered his senses the Marionette could not remember where he was.
Around him all was darkness, a darkness so deep and so black that for a moment he thought he had put his head into an inkwell.
He listened for a few moments and heard nothing.
Once in a while a cold wind blew on his face.
At first he could not understand where that wind was coming from,
but after a while he understood that it came from the lungs of the monster.
I forgot to tell you that the Shark was suffering from asthma, so that whenever he breathed a storm seemed to blow.
Pinocchio at first tried to be brave,
but as soon as he became convinced that he was really and truly in the Shark's stomach, he burst into sobs and tears.