Jettatura by Theophile Gautier

POMPEII, the dead city, does not awake in the morning like living cities, and although it has partially thrown back the covering of ashes that has lain over it for so many centuries, it remains asleep on its funereal couch even when the night has passed away.

At that time the tourists of all nations who visit it during the day are still in their beds, worn out by their fatiguing excursions, and dawn, as it lights up the of the mummy-city, does not behold a single human face. The lizards alone, with quivering tails, crawl along the walls, skurry across the disjointed mosaics, heedless of the Cave canem inscribed on the threshold of the deserted houses, and joyously hail the beams of the rising sun. They are the dwellers who have taken the places of the former inhabitants, it seems as though Pompeii bad been exhumed their special benefit.