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And
is
brought
home
at
even-song
prick
'd
through
with
a
spear
;
I
confess
him
in
haste
--
for
his
lady
desires
No
comfort
on
earth
save
the
Barefooted
Friar
's
.
3
.
Your
monarch
?
--
Pshaw
!
many
a
prince
has
been
known
To
barter
his
robes
for
our
cowl
and
our
gown
,
But
which
of
us
e
'
er
felt
the
idle
desire
To
exchange
for
a
crown
the
grey
hood
of
a
Friar
!
4
.
The
Friar
has
walk
'd
out
,
and
where'er
he
has
gone
,
