Yet was it painful to put off his style
Of awful distance, and assume a smile: 360
So between these, the gracious and the grand,
Succeeded nothing that the Doctor plann’d.
The sullen youth, with some reviving dread,
Bow’d and then hang’d disconsolate his head;
And, muttering welcome in a muffled tone,
Stalk’d cross the park to meditate alone,
Saying, or rather seeming to have said,
“Go! seek your daughter, and be there obey’d.”