Though that a man were neuer so hardy
Without me he myght not attayne
And though that a man were neuer so wytty
And I dyd my power from hym refrayne
All his labour were lost in vayne
So hardynesse and prudence in no wyse
Without good fortune may well suffyse
Though that a man were but a fole
Yf I consent that he be fortunate
He nedyth not to make no grete dole