"Tituno is the spirit of thunder--forgore--and he is known in all the Romagnie." So asserts Naudo Papetti. Another authority (Peppino) gives the name as Tit'uno "lo spirito del folgore," adding that he regrets that he cannot communicate much on the subject, but that when the season of the silk-worms shall have passed he will go forth among the contadini, and gather up what unearthly lore he can. Meanwhile he has noted down as to Tit'uno the following:--
"This spirit did marvellous things in the ancient time when Jupiter 1 was wont to let loose his thunderbolts over great plains, destroying everything. Then the people invoked this spirit, saying:--
"Spirito infernale ti scongiuro
In nome di Dio e del santo Isodorio.'
Then they took salt and holy water and sprinkled the house or the place where they were. Then the thunder departed and did not return to repeat the mischief, the invocation being a protection. And I have found a contadino who repeats it, but he says there was a time when every one in the Romagna did so."
It cannot have failed to strike the reader, as I have indeed observed it more than once in this book, that there are many spirits of thunder and lightning, which was also the case with the Etruscans of olden time,
Obstinet dicebant antiqui quod nunc ostendit, ut in veteribus carminibus: sed iam se cælo cedens Aurora obstinet suum patrem."--FESTUS, p. 197
It will come to pass, and that at no very distant day, when--although there will be no lack of people who will understand this book perhaps better than I do--there will not be a soul living who can feel it. For a copy may be kept in some library, even unto the time when there will be no more wild woods, or wildernesses, either rural or human; when every tree and rock will be recorded, and every man and woman be well educated--and all the better for them--probably into something far more sensible than sentimentalism or superstition, but the ancient spirit in which the past was lived will be irrecoverably lost. I have no fear that the outlines, or drawing, of my humble pictures will perish, but I know that the colours will inevitably fade, and yet it is the colour which most impresses me as I now write. A few days ago a dealer in bric-a-brac here in Florence showed me a picture which he said was by Beato Angelico. It was not by that master, for it was very correctly and beautifully drawn; what was remarkable in it was that it was utterly faded, all was dead grey-white, figures as well as ground being quite uniform. But the artist had outlined, or stamped every detail with tracer or wheel, so that the original conception of form still remained, and I--knowing the time and school to which it belonged--could conjecture what it must once have been. So I beg the reader to endeavour to re-colour or revive these outlines. After all, that is a poor portrait which only conveys an idea of the great skill of the artist; at least half of its effect should consist in giving us some vivid idea of what the original must have been, as man or woman, and a very badly executed sketch often does that, better than a very artistic work, as cheap popular caricatures of public characters abundantly prove.
These thoughts occurred while disentangling the meaning of a rude fragment which was half-recited and half-sung to me, and then written down as roughly as it had been repeated, yet in which there is a certain mysterious beauty, as of a dayspring obscured by clouds. It is of a spirit of the dawn who, is supposed very appropriately to herald a bright day, or promise hope to unfortunate lovers.
"Albina is a fairy who appears when morning dawns--quando spunta l'alba--to lovers who love in vain. She herself once, when in life, loved and was beloved, but she was in the power of an aunt who was a sorceress, and who opposed her love, and said to her: 'Leave this lover of thine, or evil shall befall thee. Firstly, thou shalt be a fairy, and when I die thou wilt take my witchcraft and never more have peace nor happiness.'
"Albina replied: 'Though all the world should perish, I will wed my love, and if I must become witch or fairy, then I will use all my power to benefit lovers.'
"'I will do evil to women who betray their lovers.' So Albina kept her word. If a youth in love prays to her at early dawn he will be sure to gain her favour.
"When a youth loves and meets with no return he must rise before daybreak, and, kneeling in an open field, say:--
"'Alba, alba, che tu spunti
Fa spuntar per me l'aurora!
Che l'Albina venga fuori
Una grazia mi deve fare
A lei mi vengo a raccomandare,
Dalla mia amante sono disccaciato,
Sa anche l'Albina per amore,
Quante mia passate sa che l'amore,
E tanto forte che si preferisce,
Preferisce piu tosto la morte,
Che da un amante abandonati.'
Albina is, by name, allied to Alba the dawn, or is plainly enough Aurora herself. Further questioning I leave to the learned. But what is worth remarking is that in this wild, imperfect sketch we have the fragment of some ancient and possibly far more perfect poem, utterly beyond the creative power of a mere illiterate contadina. Albina dreads the becoming a fairy, spirit, or witch. It may be observed that in all this lore there is something mysterious and terrible, to gentle natures, connected with the transfiguring of mortality into folletti. Albina fears it, but rather than relinquish her faith to her lover, and even though she lose him, she will not yield one whit, and declares that if unearthly power be forced upon her, she will exert it in behalf of unfortunate lovers. Which is realised.
All of this is not clearly and artistically developed in the incantation, but it was apparent enough in the glances and expression of the strega, who simply had a rough diamond which she could not polish. To better understand this let the reader suppose a Hampshire peasant singing such a song.
There was an old Roman, now Tuscan, town called Albinia.
The strange manner in which dim recollections of ancient myths are handed down in names, and how they are worked over and varied by the people, is illustrated by the following story from the Romagnola:--
"Verbio was a beautiful youth, as good as he was beautiful, and he loved with all his heart a maid who seemed to return his love.
"But she soon was tempted,
Tempted by another
Youth of greater beauty,
Which was like enchantment
Yet be was a stranger,
And he bad no story,
For this handsome stranger,
Verbio was slighted.
"Then Verbio fell ill in despair, and seemed to be dying, and the girl learning this repented, and in grief said to her new lover: 'I have done wrong, and I now see that Verbio loved me truly as thou dost not and no one can.' Then her lover gazed at her and she saw he was not a man but a devil. And he said:--
'See what thou hast done,
See how thou art wicked,
Leaving one who loved thee
With all soul sincerely!
Yet for me you left him,
Yes, for me, a devil;
Now you both are lost,
For thou'st truly promised
To be mine for ever,
As thou boldest Verbio.
But if you will sign
With your blood a contract
To be mine, I'll grant ye
Many, many years
Of happiness together.'
Now Verbio did not believe in the power of devils, and was only too glad to get his love again, and so signed the contract, as she did also. And they lived happily indeed for many years but years must end, and so it came to pass that when the time of the contract expired both died at once. And all at once there was an awful storm over all the land, the heavens grew dark by day, and horrible fires flashed out of the darkness, and amid the storm was heard a voice which sang:--
'Women, learn to love
One true love, and truly;
When you're truly loved
Be warned by my example
Now I pay the fee
For my fatal falsehood.'
And since that time the two have gone about as spirits knowing no rest."
Virbius was the attendant--"genius or indiges of the forests of Diana, or the oldest king and priest--rex Nemorensis--who founded her worship." He was, says PRELLER, a male demon, worshipped with Diana. He was compared with
and in fact was, " the Greek Hippolytus who, after he had been trampled to death by the wild horses of Poseidon, was revived and carried away by Diana."
Diana is known popularly to-day as the Queen of the Witches, but rather as Hecate, in a dark and terrible sense. And if Verbio be the modern form of Virbius it is evident how he has become a spirit of the night, knowing no rest. I suspect that in an older version of this story Verbio dies and is revived.
Pico de Mirandola, attacking the moral character of Diana, declares that "she was very liberal with that virginity which she feigned to adore, possibly to stimulate those who hated luxury. Thus, as the moon, Endymion lay with her, as did Hippolytus and Virbio." And Tertullian (De falsa Religione, lib. i., cap. 17), who naturally wanted to destroy the good fame and name of every lady in every mythology not Christian, holds forth in much the same manner, asking why she should take such pains to save Virbius from being killed by the horses--"qui erat turbatis distractus equis"--unless--"What, I ask," cries the holy man, inspired, "does all this nasty horse-business mean? (quid equorum tam pertinax abominatio)--unless it be a conscientia stupri, et amorem minime virginalem?--a consciousness of--ahem!--and a love of anything but a virginal sort?" Exactly. And so, ever since then Diana, as the ever-wandering moon, and Virbio--the man in the moon--have gone wandering over the face of the heavens "as spirits finding no rest."
I suspect that there is much more to be found out about this Romagnolo Verbio, and that what I have given is like many other accounts-only a mere fragment of some much completer story. The idea of signing a compact and assigning the soul is a very late Christian invention, though Horst finds traces of it a thousand years ago.
"Augustine (testimonio famoso) dice al quindicesimo libro della Citta di Dio, che i Silvani ed i Fauni (volgarmente detti Incubi), di molte volte sono stati maligni verso le donne, e che le hanno desiderate, e finalmente son giacuti con loro, e che alcuni demonj, chiamati da Franzesi Dusi del continuo vanno cercandotal disonestà, e mettonla ad effetto."--La Strega di Pico della Mirandola.
In what may be called the Irregular Minor Mythology of Anglo-Saxony, or Saxonyankeedom, and in which Jingo and the Dickens are prominent deities, there is one power known as the Deuce. I have always inclined to think that this word is only the Latin Deus, but philologists deduce it from a French goblin, one Dus, who is described as early as the fifth century as Dusius. Deus means God, while Dus, according to DU CANGE, is found in almost all the Slavonic, Celtic, and Teutonic tongues of Europe, always as a kind of devilkin, a seducer of virgins
and a being of familiar, easy, make-yourself-at-home habits. It is true, however, that the word for God has been elsewhere made to do diabolical service. In English gypsy it is Dùvel, from the same Aryan root as Deus. Some years ago an English lady teaching religion to some gypsy children, asked them how the Creator was called? Whereupon a small traveller, thinking the name was wanted in Romany, cried out "Dùvel." Soon after there appeared in the newspapers an Appalling instance of Ignorance and Depravity, showing that the lower orders actually believed that the world and all things were made by the devil--à la MOLOCH or MALLOCH. For they do indeed sound very much alike (i.e., Duvel and Devil), and when we consider the extraordinary preponderance of power awarded to the devil in Catholic Christianity, it is a marvel that these names were not interchanged long ago.
Isidore of Seville (in Gloss) speaks of Dusii as demones. Another ancient authority declares that there are actually women so devoid of decency or so worldly-minded as to solicit the embraces of those demons, quos Galli Dusios nuncupant, qua assidue hanc peragunt immunditiam--"whom the French call Dusii because they so constantly persevere in such impurity." PAPIAS writes: "Dusios nominant quas Romani faunos ficarias vocant" ("They call those Dusii whom the Romans call Faunos ficarios"). THOMAS of CANTERBURY speaks of them as forest or sylvan gods in Prussia, and that the "gentiles" there dare not cut the woods consecrated to them. And a Codex of the eighth century, cited by Du CANGE, speaks of aliqui rustici homines, "some rustics who believe in witches, dusiolas and acquaticas or genisons."
But the word seems to exist in most Northern languages. ZEUSS gives Dusmus, diabolus, for Dusius. DIEFENBACH (Origines) finds a Prussian Dussia or Dussas, "perhaps dwœse, geist, a spirit." And VILLEMARQUÉ, gives as British or Breton, Dus, Duz, plural, Duzed, an incubus. Dus appears also in Old Friesic as Dûs, and in Middle High German as Daus. I conjecture that there was an Etruscan or Sabine Dus--the parent or origin of the domestic goblin, also of the fauns. There occurs very often on vases the fox-tailed, phallic, laughing god with a flat face and snubbed nose--always as wanton and indecent.
None of the authors whom I have cited mention any Italian equivalent for the word. I was therefore pleased at finding on inquiry that not only was the name at once recognised, but that the description of the goblin corresponded in every detail to that which appears in all the earlier writers. This is the more interesting because Dus, at present, in all the rest of Europe is little heard of, and may perhaps be put down as one of the gods gone to sleep. This is what was told me:--
"Dusio is a mischievous little folletto, or goblin. He teases girls, sometimes he acts as a nightmare, very often he inspires lascivious dreams and has connection with women. Sometimes as a little imp not more than three inches high he perches on their pillows. He is not bad, but mischievous. He haunts houses and fireplaces.
"Afterwards the following was first narrated and then written out for me:--
Dusio is a folletto--goblin or spirit-who sits on girls' shoulders. In a district of La Romagna there was a girl at service in a gentleman's family. In this palace the aunt of the proprietor had died. The family consisted only of two brothers, a young son, and a girl. After the aunt died, . . . the father also passed away. And after these deaths there was no peace in the house for strange noises.
"At first the girl was afraid, but she soon became accustomed to the sounds. Steps were heard all the time going up and down stairs, doors banging. Then Virginia--such was her name--beheld at times a form as of a lady dressed in black enter and sweep by. And then came the Dusio, who played her all kinds of wanton tricks, e faceva l'amore. Now Virginia did not like this, for she had a lover who wrote frequently to her, and she had carefully hidden these letters for fear lest i padroni or her masters and mistresses should find them. One night Dusio entered, and began his pranks. First he teased her in every way--faceva tutti i dispetti--and pulled all the bed-covering, sheets and all, from Virginia. Then he went and brought out some of her letters, and lighting them at the candle burned them all up in the scaldino, or brasier.
"The next day she went to walk with an old woman who was to her as a mother, to whom she told all the tricks which Dusio played, and how he was teasing the very life out of her. Then the old woman said Should he try to do that again say to him:--
"'Dusio--diosio--vattene via!
Vattene in pace che Dio ti benedica!
"'And then he will go away and trouble you no more.'
"But Virginia was so forgetful, or so much excited, that instead of repeating these words she said:--
"'Dusio, Dusio, cosa fai?'
That is, 'Dusio, Dusio, what are you doing?' And he, bursting into a loud laugh, said: 'Taking care lest your master and mistress find your letters.'"
I have omitted from this story some family details and their name and the place where it occurred. I was assured with great earnestness that it all really took place as I have given it. What is remarkable in it, beyond the fact that Dusio corresponds exactly to the wanton sprite Dusius of the old writers, is the word diosio in the incantation. My informant could not explain it. I think I have met with it before, but cannot remember where. I conjecture, haphazardly, that it is equivalent to " Thou who mayest be, or art, a god"--i.e., dio sia!
Prætorius has, in his Blockes Berges Berichtung (1669), something to say about Dusius, and of course in his fashion it is something quaint and strange. "It hath been observed," he states, "yea, and experienced and made known by many credible men, that the Sylvani or Little Forest men and Inni, which are otherwise commonly known as Incubos and Squatters (Auflröcker) are madly lewd
for women. And there are others of the same kind whom the French call Dusii who are fully their equals in such impurity, so that it is verily a sin and a shame, and Giraldus, Livy, and Isidore l. 1, testify to it. But they have all been wrecked on the word Dusius. For it should be Drusius, and mean forest-devil, whom the Latins in the same sense call Silvanus. So that which Saint Augustine saith, that our ancestors of old time called these spirits and devils Druten is most probable, since the word agrees well with that of Druids who lived in wood and forests."
Which may or may not be. Dus is distinctly marked in all its early forms, although the intercalation of r is extremely common, even to children.
Pliny tells us that hand-mills were invented at Volsinii, and that some of them turned of their own accord (Pliny, xxxvi. 29), "from which," says Dennis, "it would appear probable that 'that shrewd and knavish sprite called Robin Goodfellow' was of Etruscan origin--a fact worthy the attention of all Etrusco-Celtic theorists." The reader will find in several chapters of this my book much to confirm this conjecture.
The following account as to this spirit came from a family living near Forli:--
"Remle is the spirit of the mills, and when a peasant who has offended him in any manner takes his corn to be ground, then the miller finds that something is out of order and that the wheel will not turn, because Remle has meddled with the works (va in mezzo alla macina), and hinders the grinding of the grain.
Then the miller must say:--
"'Remile, Remle, a ti mi raccomando,
Che siei tanto buono e grande,
Ti prego la macina lasciami andare,
Perche a da fare, e il contadino ti mandero,
A far ti ringraziare!'"
("'Remle, Remle, on thee I wait,
For thou art so good and great,
I pray thee let the mill-wheel go,
For there's work to do, and the peasant shall know
How much to thee he doth truly owe!"')
I can find no name like that of Remle connected with any early Tuscan or Latin divinity. In Italian Remolare means to retard, or to hinder, and as Remle retards or hinders the working of the mill, it is most probable that this is the origin of the word. Mola, a mill-stone, permolare, to grind, moláto (Ital.) ground, seem all to be closely associated with it. In Romagnolo the word Remle is the same as the Italian crusca, or bran. Yet I doubt whether this be
the original name or indicative of its real meaning. It is worth noting that it seems very natural to suppose that there is a goblin dwelling in the mysterious chiaro-oscuro of a mill--
"Made misty by the floating meal."
Now, by two-headed Janus!
Nature hath formed strange fellows in her time."
Quod quidem apud Thuscos Italiæ populos accidisse, historia traditur, neque ego hæc loquor quasi poëticum fabulam."--Psellus de Daemonibus.
As my limits forbid much further printing, I include in one section four spirits who came flying in late after the rest. The first of these is Jano, who is thus described:--
"JANO is a spirit with two heads, one of a Christian (i.e., human), and one of an animal, and yet he hath a good heart, especially that of the animal, 1 and whoever desires a favour from them should invoke (deve pregarle) both, and to do this he must take two cards of a tarocco pack, generally the wheel of fortune and the diavolo indiavolato, and put them on the iron (frame) of the bed, and say:--
"'Diavolo che sei capo
Di tutti i diavoli!
La testa ti voglio stiacciare
Fino che o spirito di Jano,
Per me non vai a pregare!'"
("'Thou devil who art chief
Of all the fiends!
I will crush thy head
Until the spirit of Jano
Thou callest for me!'")
Jano is here plainly enough Janus, who was of yore a god of chance and fortune, and who has descended legitimately and naturally, as surveying the past and future, to association with cards. I have seen an early Romanesque or Lombard statue of this god in which one of the heads was of an animal and the other human (vide Gypsy Sorcery, p. 208, in which, however, both heads are erroneously given as animal).
I believe that there were few gods with whom there were so many occult, strange, and forbidden mysteries connected, as with Janus, and there are marked
traces of this in the modern tradition. As having two heads, or being all-seeing, he became the symbol of Prudence--the Prudentia of Gothic sculpture, which is also the mystic Baphomet, or two-headed figure girt with a serpent, of the Knights Templars. There is one of these on the door of the Baptistery here, in Florence. The Baphomet signified secrecy and "illumination"--or, properly, freethought, nature-worship, or agnosticism to the adepti. Janus was the god of the door, i.e., the entrance or admission to the mysteries. By him the chief devil (or evil) is conquered, and fortune or fate mastered. The incantation to Jano is therefore of great interest and value as possibly indicating a very curious tradition handed down from the old initiation. He is the weird, i.e., prophetic spirit.
MEANA--Of this spirit I have the following written:--
Meana is a spirit who is amiably inclined to people, and especially to lovers. When we desire a favour of her we should say:--
"'Per l'imagine di Meana
E per la sua bella persona
Uno che la guardi bisogna
Che l'adori sulla sua tomba
Preghero fin che il suo spirito non vedro,
Se vederlo io protro il suo spirito
Sempre preghero che nessun spirito maligno
Mi possa molestare
E Satanas le converra
Sempre lasciarmi stare
Lo spirito di Meana sempre preghero
E saro certo che mai non periro!'"
As this is to me intranslatable nonsense, I have not attempted to give a version of it. MEANA, according to Eduard Gerhard (Gesammelte Akademische Abhandlungen, 1866), the Etruscan name of a winged goddess of fate. He connects it with mens, Menerva (Minerva) and Mnemosyne. Her pictures as given indicate an aerial, lasa-like spirit, resembling Bellaria, or such as in popular tradition is connected with benevolence and love.
Since writing the foregoing there has fallen into my possession, "for the second time in life," a copy of the Miracles of the Living and of the Dead, by Henry Kornmann, Frankfort, 1614. I have not now space wherein to print all that I have learned regarding Meana; suffice it to say that as a love-goddess, specially devoted to brides, she is identical with Mena, thus described by Kornmann in language which I really must be excused from translating:
"Quæstiuncula. Cur novis nuptis Mena appareat?
"Latet ibi mysterium magnum serpentis antiqui. Id quod et Romanis ignotum non fuit. Quis nova nupta super ingentem fascinum, id est membrum Priapi sedere jubebatur, qui erat in loco altiori, quem indicat Lucanus inquiens. Torvus stat, id est, stratum, pendulum, et erectum. In quod ascendebatur gradibus ebore ornatis, hoc autem fiebat propterea, ut illarum pudicitiam prior Deus delibasse videretur, docet ex Varrone Aurel. Augustinus lib. 6, Civit Dei, c. 9, et Lactantius, lib. 1.
According to that strange book, the Delineatio Impotentiæ Conjugalis of John G. Simon, 1682, the serpent, if not conciliated and buried under the threshold, prevented conception. Vide also De Natura Hermaphroditorum, of Caspar Bauhinus, 1614, containing interesting chapters on satyrs, fauns, &c. The tale of the Æolian virgin and her serpent-love belongs to this series.
Last of all there was sent to me a very long paper stating that MENA or MERNA is a spirit who appears to brides in the Romagna Toscana in the form of a serpent. But only to those who know the proper invocation. Should the serpent appear perpendicularly, at full length (i.e., Phallic), this means a long life, and happy; if twisted up, it presages many sorrows, &c.; but if Mena comes as a woman, it forbodes unhappiness and discord. The incantation is as follows in such a case:--
"Ti scongiuro, O Serpente!
Merna! Merna! Merna!
Del malaugurio, e che
Tu mi faccia tornare
In pace col mio marito!
Se no come mi indichera
La fata Merna, io ti confinero
Nel pin profondo abisso
Che possa esistere
Soprá la terra. Merna! Merna!"
Then if Mena appears as a serpent all is well; but if not, the bride must sit for three nights under a juniper-tree by a running stream, and cast into it three juniper berries, make a fire of three twigs of birch (beto), throw the ashes into the brook, and repeat:--
Fata Merna, ti 'nvoco
Per la tranquillita.
Dell' anima mia, e per quello
Di mio caro marito!"
Then the spirit will appear in the form of a fish, and bid the bride take of the mud of the stream, mingle it with salt and oil, warm it, if possible, against the husband's body, make it into a box (or take a box) and put the mud into it shaped like fish, carry it into the church where the wedding took place.
Then Mena appears and tells the bride in long detail to be three nights in the church, and to burn the box and fish with cypress wood, and cause the husband to swallow the ashes in soup. Then all will be well.
MONTULGA-Of this spirit I am told:--
Montulga is a very beautiful spirit, called Montulga della Bellaria. Unto him who believes in her all his affairs will prosper. He who would invoke her should go into a pine-tree grove and say:--
"'Qui si resposa,
Al odore dei pini
L'odore piu bello,
Piu bello che ci sia,
E qui inginnochio
. . . di un pino io mi metto
A pregare la regina--
La regina delle stelle--
O sia regina della luna
E del sole la prottetrice--
Prottetrice dell' amore
Lo regina dell' aria pura
Che di par bene
Agli infelici
Sempre si chura (cura).'"
I believe that Montulga may be the Etruscan Munthuch. A Bellaria in modern Tuscan tradition is an aerial spirit of grace, and flowers, of which family are Albina, or Alpena, and these are the companions or counterparts of Venus. Of Munthuch I learn from Corssen that the name had also the older form, Munthu-châ. "She belongs to the world of plants in spring. In one mirror she dances with a satyr," all of which associates her with fields and forests, "piny grove and shady fountain." If Muntucha be the name, the l and g come naturally into Muntulga in Bolognese.
MUNTHUCHA, OR MONTULGA
TALENA--This is written Salena, I think, in the letter in which this spirit is given, but I am altogether uncertain as to the initial. She is thus described:--
"Talena is a female spirit which causes terror in the night. She is clad in white." 1
BELLARIA
if this name be Talena there is nothing in the description which connects it with that of Talena, or Thalna, of the Etruscans, of whom Gerhard says, "Thalna, and Thalne, and perhaps also Talena . . . is on the Etruscan mirrors a goddess," of whom I may briefly say (to condense the mass of authorities whom he cites) has been believed to be a form of Venus, Juno, and Diana, none of whom is a nightmare. If it be Salena there is no deity known to me with whom she corresponds.
The woman who sent me the information relative to these four spirits, adds in a postscript "This is all which I have been able to learn from several people." I believe that the information was chiefly, if not all, derived from Volterra, but to what degree I could not verify.
Of this spirit I am very uncertain, and regarding him I know nothing. I find him entered among notes taken and neglected as "un piccolo spirito colla beretta," a goblin with a cap, probably a form of the Red Caps or House Goblins. He is, almost certainly, the ancient Picus, or red-headed woodpecker spirit.
Still later, while this work was being printed, I collected, or received in letters, accounts of, or tales relating to, a number of spirits, which, if fully translated, would have made perhaps sixty more pages, for which there is, of course, no space. These were briefly and in part as follows:--
Nurbia e la Pietra di Salute (cf. Nurbia, the spirit of disease, who is invoked while preparing the stone of health, or a pebble used to cure rheumatism, &c.).
Lamia, or the serpent-witch. A story and a long poem, now lost, I fear.
La Strega Zumia.
Il prete Stregone Arrimini ("The wizard-priest Arrimini").
La fata Julda. A tale. Including an account of the three spirits Trillo, Jullo, and Burillo.
The Witch-spirits Gerda and Meta. With a tale.
The Baker Tozzi and his Daughter Fiorlinda. A tale.
La Penna Maligna. An indescribably revolting ceremony with incantation. From Volterra.
La Corda, or the Incantation of the Vintage (Roman Catholic).
To these I may add many poems or ballads all referring to witchcraft, and all, with one exception, as yet unpublished. These would fill about one hundred and fifty pages.
122:1 This was written by a youth who had received some education, hence the association with Giove or Jove. Here the latter is deus ex machina.
130:1 There is manifest confusion here.
133:1 The manuscript being here illegible it was mislaid, hence a portion is wanting.