In 1888, Franz Schubert's coffin was opened in the presence of various Viennese notables, including Anton Bruckner. Bruckner, as guileless a man as ever lived, was so overcome with awe that he reached in and grasped Schubert's skull with both hands. He had to be gently restrained so that the coffin could be resealed. (Incidentally, this makes Bruckner the last person in history to have physical contact with Schubert.)
Naturally, the authorities were shocked. But they really shouldn't have been.
A few months earlier, there had been an almost identical episode - only this time, with Beethoven. As with Schubert, the coffin was opened, and Bruckner was present. As with Schubert, Bruckner grasped Beethoven's skull, addressed it affectionately in a broad country dialect, until he was physically pulled away.
There's a footnote to this story. When he got home from the cemetery, Bruckner realized that one lens had fallen out of his pince-nez eyeglasses. His housemaid searched his apartment diligently, but couldn't find anything.
So the question is: in that coffin, nestled in among whatever remains of Ludwig van Beethoven, is there also a single eyeglass lens?
Bruckner always liked to think so.