Naples, 1435. Antonio Beccadelli, called il Panormita, watched the masons digging to complete the foundations of his new palace. The workers labored among the remains of medieval walls and fragments of Roman opus reticulatum, using the ancient structures as a base for the new construction.

King Alfonso the Magnanimous greatly appreciated il Panormita, his trusted advisor, and rewarded him generously. The humanist would later immortalize the magnificence of the Aragonese sovereign in the Liber de dictis et factis Alphonsi regis, a collection of anecdotes and maxims of the king. Times had changed since the turbulent days of the Hermaphroditus, when his erotic sonnets in Latin were condemned by the Church. His effigies were publicly burned in Bologna and Milan, while Pope Eugene IV even threatened excommunication for anyone found reading that work considered scandalous pagan immorality. In Naples, however, the verses still circulated, discreetly amusing the intellectuals of the court. Alfonso had created a protective environment for humanists, where ancient culture could be studied without the fears that afflicted other Italian courts.

Observing the ancient foundations, Beccadelli had an idea. His humanistic education had taken him far from the medieval conceptions that still dominated the most conservative circles of society. Where theologians saw only divine providence, he had rediscovered in the ancients the power of Fortune. Not only Cicero, but all classical literature—from Virgil to Ovid, from Homer to Sophocles—attested to the power of this capricious goddess. In Roman religion, she had been worshiped with temples and rites before Christianity erased everything under the aegis of divine will. From the classics, he had developed the idea that fortune could be partly influenced, not only with temples and sacrifices but also with amulets like the Phallus in erection. But he, having still a basis of religious education, decided to use a horn instead of a Phallus in erection.

"I have what is needed," said the humanist.

Weeks earlier, in Palermo, he had met an old Greek sculptor who showed him a small stone horn. The craftsman had smiled seeing his curiosity. "My grandfather carved Phalli in erection for Roman merchants," he had said. "He said that Fortune is like a capricious woman: the more openly you court her, the more she escapes you. The Phalli in erection among various amulets were the most powerful."

The old man had caressed the marble horn. "Then the Christians came and everything changed. We could no longer carve such explicit symbols without attracting the clergy’s wrath. But my father was clever: he discovered that the horn maintains the same symbolic power as the Phallus in erection, the same ability to attract divine favor, but with a more... diplomatic shape."

The man looked Beccadelli in the eyes. "The ancients knew that Fortune can be courted, not conquered. Not forced, as the Christians claim to do with prayer, but seduced with grace. The horn is the perfect compromise: it keeps the power of the ancient symbol but hides its true nature. Fortune appreciates the intelligence of those who know how to adapt to the times."

That evening, while the masons rested, Beccadelli went down among the foundations with a candle. The flame flickered on the fragments of Roman marble embedded in the new walls. He found the cornerstone and hid the small marble horn beside it.

Looking toward the sea, he glimpsed in the distance the profile of Castel dell'Ovo. Legend told that in its foundations Virgil himself had hidden a magic egg, and as long as it remained intact, the castle would be impregnable. For centuries that egg had protected the fortress. Now, thought the humanist, his stone horn would guarantee the palace fortune, success, and security.

In the following decades, the building would host some of the brightest intellectuals of Southern Humanism. Poets, philosophers, and humanists would gather in those halls, debating classical literature and composing works that would span centuries. Il Panormita’s palace would become a cultural reference point, where ideas circulated freely and ancient knowledge was reborn in new forms. Fortune, perhaps, had appreciated the tribute.