This cursed craft whoso will exercise, He shall no good have that him may suffice; For all the good he spendeth thereabout, He losë shall, thereof have I no doubt. Whoso that list to utter 4709 his follý, Let him come forth and learn to multiply: And every man that hath aught in his coffer, Let him appear, and wax a philosópher; Ascauncë 4710 that craft is so light to lear. 4711 Nay, nay, God wot, all be he monk or frere, Priest or canón, or any other wight; Though he sit at his book both day and night; In learning of this elvish nicë 4712 lore, All is in vain; and pardie muchë more, Is to learn a lew’d 4713 man this subtletý;