The story of the Hunchback of the Rocca di Dom is told of other places also, but it seems to suit this spot better than any. Duncan Craig gives a picturesque version of it.
The hunchback wandered up one night when the mistral was thundering over the hill, setting the sails of the windmills tearing madly round. And the moonlight was shining on the rock, calm through all the tumult. The man can have had no tendency to insomnia, for he fell fast asleep in the uproar, and when he woke it was to sounds of barbaric music and the clashing of cymbals. And presently La Rocca was alive with a crowd of faces, high-crowned conical hats, black satins and silks; and to the great scandalisation of the watcher, grave and respected citizens of Avignon arm-in-arm with the witches. And they were all dancing as hard as they could dance, and the dust raised by the mistral whirled with them, and the windmill sails tore round scrooping and creaking. New arrivals would come on the scene, and these would receive strange salutations.
"Bon Vèspre, Cousin Chin!" ("Good evening, cousin dog.") "Bono sero, Cousin Cat!" "Bono niue, Coumpaire Loup!" ("Good-night, gossip Wolf.") "Coume vai, Misè Limace?" ("How are you, Mistress Snail?") "Pas maw, pas maw, Cousin Jano."
And so they danced to their Saracenic music, and presently they began to sing together a curious doggerel:—
"Dilun, Dimars e Demecre tres! Dilun, Dimars e Demecre tres!" ("Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, three.") And they sang it over and over and over again.
At last this seems to have got upon the poor man's nerves, for suddenly he starts up and shouts—
"Dijou, Divendre, e Dissate, sieis." ("Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, six.")
"Oh, lou brave gibous!" shriek the witches in chorus. "The dear hunchback has come up here to complete our verse for us; Zou, we will make a man of him."
And they come towards him in a whirling circle, dancing round and round him till he is dazed and dazzled and seems to lose consciousness, when suddenly he finds himself breathless on the rock alone and—straight as a pine!
Another hunchback, hearing of this strange cure, went up to La Rocca on a night of storm, all ready to finish the witches' rhyme for them. This time it was:—