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It had not ceased raining; there was still a drizzling shower;

the light of the dawn enabled Renzo to see around him. He was in

his own country! Who can express his sensations? Those mountains,

the Resegone, the territory of Lecco, appeared to belong to him,

to be his own! But, looking at himself, he felt that his outward

aspect was rather at variance with the exuberant joyousness of

his heart; his clothes were wet and clinging to his body, his hat

bent out of shape and full of water; his hair hanging straight

about his face; while his lower man was encased in a dense

covering of mud.