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 | That last is true -- the sweeter rest was mine. | |
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| God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline? | |
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| With Roaline! My ghostly father, no./ I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. | |
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| That's my good son! But where hast thou been then? | |
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| I'll tell thee ere thou ask it me again... I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo./ My intercession likewise steades me for. | |
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| Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift./ riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. | |
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