This priest the sum of forty pound anon Of nobles fet, 4865 and took them every one To this canón, for this ilkë receipt. All his workíng was but fraud and deceit. “Sir Priest,” he said, “I keep 4866 to have no los 4867 Of my craft, for I would it were kept close; And as ye lovë me, keep it secré: For if men knewen all my subtletý, By God, they wouldë have so great envý To me, because of my philosophý, I should be dead, there were no other way.” “God it forbid,” quoth the priest, “what ye say. Yet had I lever 4868 spenden all the good Which that I have (and ellës were I wood 4869 ), Than that ye shouldë fall in such mischíef.”