astonishment, hardly able to believe that they had not alighted on a different planet.
But it is not everybody who has a petition to the Decollati who can undertake a pilgrimage to their shrine. Where this cannot be done there is still the possibility of reaching their ears. In the stillness of the night a taper is kindled before their picture. A ghastly picture it is, of bodies hanging from the gallows or burning in the midst of the fire, the latter being usually taken for a scene in Purgatory. The cottage door or the window is opened. The devotee falls on her knees, and tells her beads. Among her prayers she states in plain terms what she wants,—for there is no need to beat about the bush with the Decollati,—winding up with a last orison in rhyme threatening them with indifference for the future if they do not grant her what she has in mind. All sorts of petitions are thus presented, nor is it only women who are the petitioners. One man will ask for success in business, and another for three lucky numbers in the lottery. The mother will pray for her children, and the wife for her husband. The maiden who has quarrelled with her lover will pray thus:
| literally | |
| Arm'l corpi decullati | Souls of the beheaded bodies, |
| Tri'mpisi, tri ocisi, e tri annigati, | Three hanged, three slain, and three drowned, |
| Tutti novi vi junciti, | All nine of you join, |
| Nn' 'u mè zitu vi nni jiti, | Go into my sweetheart, |
| Tanti e tanti cci nni dati, | Give him such and such [torments] |
| No pi fallu muriri | Not to make him die |
| Ma pi fallu a mia viniri. | But to make him come to me. |
This reminds us of the common English charm:
It's not this bone I mean to stick,
But my true lover's heart I mean to prick,
Wishing him neither rest nor sleep
Until he comes to me to speak.
