Casanova sponged himself all over.
Greatly refreshed, he dressed in his best suit, the one he had intended to wear the previous evening had there been time to change.

Now, however, he was delighted that he would be able to appear before Marcolina better clad than on the previous day, to present himself in a new form as it were.
So he sauntered into the garden wearing a coat of grey satin richly embroidered and trimmed with Spanish lace; a yellow waistcoat; and knee-breeches of cherry-colored silk.

His aspect was that of a man who was distinguished without being proud.

An amiable smile played about his lips, and his eyes sparkled with the fire of inextinguishable youth.

To his disappointment, he found no one but Olivo, who bade him be seated, and invited him to fall to upon the modest fare.