As I knew the geography of the Tomb of the Lovers, as well as if I had lived twenty years in Lyons, namely, that it was upon the turning of my right hand, just without the gate, leading to the Fauxbourg de Vaise⁠⸺⁠I dispatched François to the boat, that I might pay the homage I so long ow’d it, without a witness of my weakness⁠—I walk’d with all imaginable joy towards the place⁠⸺⁠when I saw the gate which intercepted the tomb, my heart glowed within me⁠⸺⁠

—Tender and faithful spirits! cried I, addressing myself to Amandus and Amanda⁠—long⁠—long have I tarried to drop this tear upon your tomb⁠⸻I come⁠⸻I come⁠⸻

When I came⁠—there was no tomb to drop it upon.

What would I have given for my uncle Toby, to have whistled Lillabullero!