Manin, however, did not live to see that.

Forbidden even to return to Venice again, he retired to Paris a poor and broken man, and there died in 1854.
The myriad Austrians who are projected into Venice every day during the summer by excursion steamers from Trieste rarely, I imagine, get so far as the Campo dominated by Manin's exuberant statue with the great winged lion, and therefore do not see this fine fellow who lived to preserve his country from them.

Nor do they as a rule visit that side of S.
Mark's where his tomb stands.

But they can hardly fail to see the monument to Victor Emmanuel on the Riva--with the lion which they had wounded so grievously, symbolizing Italy under the enemy, on the one side, and the same animal all alert and confident, on the other, flushed with the assurance which 1866 brought, and the sturdy king riding forth to victory above.

This they cannot well help seeing.
The little piazzetta on the north side of S.Mark's has a famous well, with two porphyry lions beside it on which small Venetians love to straddle.