I can find my father. I want to be with him, and never leave him any more. Oh tell me it is not true that you are dead. If you really love me, if you love your little brother, come back, return to life! Doesn't it make you unhappy to see me left all alone by everybody? If the robbers came now to hang me to a tree again, I should die this time for sure. What can I do alone in this world, now that I have lost my father and you? Who will give me anything to eat? Where shall I sleep at night? Who will make my clothes? Oh, it would be better a hundred times better, that I should die. Yes, I want to die. Ih! Ih! Ih!"
And in despair he tried to tear out his hair, but as it was made of wood he could not even run his fingers through it, nor pull out a single lock. Just then a large dove that was flying past, seeing the little marionette leaning on the marble slab, stopped, and hovering in the air, asked: "Tell me little boy, what are you doing down there?"
"Don't you see that I am crying?" said Pinocchio, raising his head toward the voice,
