[3] ‘Mago.’ I asked the narrator what her idea of a ‘mago’ was, and she said, ‘Something like a stregone (masculine of strega, witch), only not quite so bad.’ [↑]
[4] Genii having no place in modern Italian mythology, the ‘Genius of the Lamp’ loses his identity here. [↑]
[5] ‘Posate,’ spoons and forks. I spare the reader the enumeration of the Roman dishes which were detailed to me as figuring on the table, as I have had to quote many of them in other stories. [↑]
[6] ‘I always used to wonder,’ observed the narrator very pertinently, ‘as my mother told me this, why they didn’t rub the lamp again and ask for what they wanted, instead of going about pawning the posate. I suppose they had forgotten about it.’ [↑]
[7] ‘Pezzente,’ a sorry fellow; literally beggar. [↑]
[8] ‘Che ci penso io’ is a saying ever in the mouth of a Roman. Whatever you may be giving directions about, they always stop you with ‘Lasci far a me, che ci penso io’ (‘Leave it to me; I’ll manage it.’) [↑]
[9] ‘Tre ore di notte’ means three hours after the evening Ave. If it was summer-time this would be about 11 P.M. A subject of the ‘Gran Sultan’ being supposed to measure time by the Ave Maria is not one of the least bizarre of traditionary accretions. [↑]
[10] ‘Chincaglieria,’ all kinds of small articles of metal-work. [↑]
[11] ‘Frāvodo.’ As I had never heard the word before, I was very particular in making the narrator repeat it, to take it down. She described it as a horn or trumpet, but I cannot meet with the word in any dictionary. [↑]