‘Why, you must be trying to make us laugh!’ said Agnese.

‘That’s true enough; for it seems to me that the season for laughter is with us now, and none too soon at that. We’ve seen some ugly times, my dear young people, ugly times in plenty…we may fairly hope for better things during the few years that still lie before us in this world. But all of you are in luck, for if all goes well you should have quite some time to spend talking over your past troubles. But the hands of my clock stand at a quarter to twelve, and…well, scoundrels may die; people may have the plague and get better; but there’s no cure for anno domini. Senectus ipsa est morbus, as they say.’

Alessandro Manzoni, The Betrothed