No walls rise above the surface now, no arch frames the sky, and nothing marks the spot. The friary has not so much disappeared as been absorbed, its footprint swallowed by later buildings and its stonework quietly redistributed among the gardens and grounds of neighbouring properties.

The friary was founded in 1224 by Maurice Fitzgerald, making it one of the earlier Franciscan foundations in Ireland, established within a generation of the order's arrival on the island. A drawing made in 1585 shows it still standing, at least in part, but by 1681 observers noted only some small remains. During building work in the early nineteenth century, the site gave up further evidence of its past: human remains, building foundations, and tomb-flags bearing what were described as fleureed crosses, that is, crosses with stylised floral terminals at each arm, turned up repeatedly as foundations were dug in the area. The scholar O'Sullivan, writing in 1945, placed the friary's extent as running from a point opposite the kitchen of the Devonshire Arms hotel to the end of the then-modern convent schools, a stretch of unremarkable urban ground that few passers-by would think to question.

What survived the demolition did not stay together. Two water fonts from the site are now in the grounds of nearby Strand House. Elsewhere, the garden wall of another neighbouring property incorporates two pairs of ogee-heads, the curved and pointed decorative surrounds that would once have framed windows, along with two pointed door arches. Ogee-headed windows were a common feature of late medieval ecclesiastical architecture in Ireland, their double-curved profile giving them an elegance that made them worth preserving even when the buildings they belonged to were long gone. Scattered across a handful of private gardens, these fragments are the friary's only physical survivors above ground.