'Give us that.'
We look at running against a person in the street.
'Give us that.
' We look at the name of the street itself. 'Give us that.' Now,
we have our three numbers.
If the roof of the theatre of San Carlo were to fall in, so many
people would play upon the numbers attached to such an accident in
the Diviner, that the Government would soon close those numbers,
and decline to run the risk of losing any more upon them. This
often happens. Not long ago, when there was a fire in the King's
Palace, there was such a desperate run on fire, and king, and
palace, that further stakes on the numbers attached to those words
in the Golden Book were forbidden. Every accident or event, is
supposed, by the ignorant populace, to be a revelation to the
beholder, or party concerned, in connection with the lottery.
Certain people who have a talent for dreaming fortunately, are much
sought after; and there are some priests who are constantly
favoured with visions of the lucky numbers.
I heard of a horse running away with a man, and dashing him down,
dead, at the corner of a street. Pursuing the horse with
incredible speed, was another man, who ran so fast, that he came
up, immediately after the accident. He threw himself upon his
knees beside the unfortunate rider, and clasped his hand with an
expression of the wildest grief. 'If you have life,' he said,
'speak one word to me! If you have one gasp of breath left,
mention your age for Heaven's sake, that I may play that number in
the lottery.'
It is four o'clock in the afternoon, and we may go to see our
lottery drawn. The ceremony takes place every Saturday, in the
Tribunale, or Court of Justice--this singular, earthy-smelling
room, or gallery, as mouldy as an old cellar, and as damp as a
dungeon. At the upper end is a platform, with a large horse-shoe
table upon it; and a President and Council sitting round--all
judges of the Law. The man on the little stool behind the
President, is the Capo Lazzarone, a kind of tribune of the people,
appointed on their behalf to see that all is fairly conducted:
attended by a few personal friends. A ragged, swarthy fellow he
is: with long matted hair hanging down all over his face: and
covered, from head to foot, with most unquestionably genuine dirt.
All the body of the room is filled with the commonest of the
Neapolitan people: and between them and the platform, guarding the
steps leading to the latter, is a small body of soldiers.
There is some delay in the arrival of the necessary number of
judges; during which, the box, in which the numbers are being
placed, is a source of the deepest interest. When the box is full,
the boy who is to draw the numbers out of it becomes the prominent
feature of the proceedings. He is already dressed for his part, in
a tight brown Holland coat, with only one (the left) sleeve to it,
which leaves his right arm bared to the shoulder, ready for
plunging down into the mysterious chest.
During the hush and whisper that pervade the room, all eyes are
turned on this young minister of fortune. People begin to inquire
his age, with a view to the next lottery; and the number of his
brothers and sisters; and the age of his father and mother; and
whether he has any moles or pimples upon him; and where, and how
many; when the arrival of the last judge but one (a little old man,
universally dreaded as possessing the Evil Eye) makes a slight
diversion, and would occasion a greater one, but that he is
immediately deposed, as a source of interest, by the officiating
priest, who advances gravely to his place, followed by a very dirty
little boy, carrying his sacred vestments, and a pot of Holy Water.
Here is the last judge come at last, and now he takes his place at
the horse-shoe table.
There is a murmur of irrepressible agitation. In the midst of it,
the priest puts his head into the sacred vestments, and pulls the
same over his shoulders. Then he says a silent prayer; and dipping
a brush into the pot of Holy Water, sprinkles it over the box--and
over the boy, and gives them a double-barrelled blessing, which the
box and the boy are both hoisted on the table to receive. The boy
remaining on the table, the box is now carried round the front of
the platform, by an attendant, who holds it up and shakes it
lustily all the time; seeming to say, like the conjurer, 'There is
no deception, ladies and gentlemen; keep your eyes upon me, if you
please!'
At last, the box is set before the boy; and the boy, first holding
up his naked arm and open hand, dives down into the hole (it is
made like a ballot-box) and pulls out a number, which is rolled up,
round something hard, like a bonbon. This he hands to the judge
next him, who unrolls a little bit, and hands it to the President,
next to whom he sits. The President unrolls it, very slowly. The
Capo Lazzarone leans over his shoulder. The President holds it up,
unrolled, to the Capo Lazzarone. The Capo Lazzarone, looking at it
eagerly, cries out, in a shrill, loud voice, 'Sessantadue!' (sixty-
two), expressing the two upon his fingers, as he calls it out.
Alas! the Capo Lazzarone himself has not staked on sixty-two. His
face is very long, and his eyes roll wildly.
As it happens to be a favourite number, however, it is pretty well
received, which is not always the case. They are all drawn with
the same ceremony, omitting the blessing.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 69 of 72
Words from 69530 to 70531
of 73541
