An epytaphe, of the godlye constau[n]t, [and] counfortable co[n]fessor mystres (Darothye [sic] Wynnes) whiche slepte in Christ the yere of grace. M.D.LX. Made by, Frances Newport

〈◊〉〈…〉 tha • • n this life 〈◊〉 lyu • here, who fautes haue few, or ful of crym in the ſame kinde, they doe apper • and dyinge well, this is ſertayn • to yll they cannot, turne agayne. Therfore ye ende, dothe well declar • who doe Immeryt, to haue prayſe and alſo thoſe, that vertouſe are which walked ſtyll, in godly wayes for as they dye, ſo ſhall the ryſe this is the ſaynge, of the wyſe. Yf our fathers, deſerued fame for that they hated, vertuouſe foe doubtles good wemen, doe the ſame yf in theyr pathes, lyke wyſe the goe amongeſt which holyeſt, that are gōne I coūpte Darothye (Wynnes) for one 〈2 lines〉 and ta • y •• here, a tym • and ſpace that nowe is ſpent, and ſhe is gonne. whoſe Corpus is layed, in the graue … this world, vnworthie to haue For as the Lorde firſt, gaue her life • o rated alſo, was her race • when death came, which endith ſtrife ſhe yeldyde ſtreyght, vnto hym place as one full fyxed, in her mynde after this life, muche ioy to find Thus is ſhe deade, to lyue agayne in that lyfe, that laſteth euer highe in the heuens, where is no payne amongeſt the holy, ſaynctes together happy therfore, was her good channce whome God of heuen, doth ſo aduaince. Though ſhe nowe, be caried hen •• and clotes of claye, cloſed out of ſigh •• ceaſe ſhall I not, my diligence for to ſet forth, this worthie wighte whoſe bodie thuogh, hyt lye obſcure yet ſhall her Fame, alwayes induer • In worſterſhere, there, dyd ſh • dw ••• the towne to name, is cald Droitewich whoſe vertuouſe, dyd ſo muche excell nowe ſhe is gone, their lyues non ſuch for this I dare, be bolde to ſay A Phenyxe ſhe was, in that countrey. Gyue eare my frendes, & herkē mor • of this meke Matrone, I diſcriue for whome good people, muche deplore whoſe pere is fewe, in yearth alyue and though this world, did her a noy • yet wone ſhe hath, now laſting ioye. Gods worde ſhe dyd, trulye profeſſe • hoſe life accordid, with the ſame •• erfore all men, can ſay no leaſſe •• t ſhe deſerues, eternall fame • nd ther to think her, well worthy • mongeſt the ſaintes, numbered to be 〈◊〉 •• gement ſhe was, full vp right • nd heryſes, cleane dyd deteſt •• e hild on Chriſte, the God of might • is parfict waye, ſtyll coumptinge beſt •• ough deathe therfore, did her aſſayle • et could hit not, her hart once quayle When papiſtes dyd her much deride, • et wold ſhe not, to them incline 〈◊〉 followe ſuch, that wanderyd wyde • orſakinge chriſtes, preceptes deuyne … er vnto euer, ſhe dyd ſtande 〈◊〉 wold not byld, vpon the ſande. For after ſhe chriſtes word, once knew 〈◊〉 papiſtes churche, ſhe neuer came 〈2 lines〉 a •• ••• ed was, what euer did fall neuer to bowe, her knees to Baal Therfore full manye: a ſharpe ſhew ſhe dyd ſuſtayne, in Maryes dayes whē tyrantes wold: with force procu •• her for to walke: in Romyſhe wayes yet might they not: her once remoue ſo feruent was, to God her loue. She wt her houſe, one God did cri • thryſe euery daye, with great deſyre that he wold of, his owne mercy onſe agayne, yet quenche the fye • whoſe voyce he harde, & dyd the ſa •• euen for the glory, of his name. A myrrour and mother, of godlin •••• ſhe was in bringinge, vp of youth her childrens lyues, doe it expreſſe of whoſe bereft, thei may haue ruth her 〈…〉〈1 line〉 for her womanlye, ſhamfaſtnes •• r perfecte chaſte, and puer lyfe faythfull lyppes, cane hit expreſſe thoſe that knew her, mayd and wyfe •• oſe Fragrāt, name declares noleſſe •• ecyous oyntmentes, much to paſſe. All idelnes, ſhe dyd abhore •• d loued well, good excerſyſe •• r workes God bleaſt, & ſent her ſtore • hich truth imbraſte, and hated lyes • erfore of her, may by this brute • e as the tree, ſuch is the frute Her care was moſt, to help the poore. • here in ſhe dyd, ryght fare excell 〈◊〉 almes that was, dayly at her doore •• e people their, dyd know full well God they crye, daylye therfore • end them now, ſuche frindes in ſtore. 〈3 lines〉 ſainge ſhe wold come, to beggarye but yet the Lorde, that ſawe the deede dyd alwayes helpe her, in her neade How many ſyke, ſhe dyd releaue great maruell were it, nowe to tell and what to pryſoners, ſhe did geue all that countrey, ſhe did preſel ſhe loued ſo, Chriſts members here that nothinge was, for them to deare Abhore ſhe dyd, to haue exceſſe and porcyon, to eate alone but gaue ther of, the Fatherles as one fulll of, Compaſſion therfore the ſcriptures, doth witnes her ſoule ſhall neuer, feele darknes. Her mouth to wiſdome, opened ſhe her Langwage was, the lawe of grace her 〈…〉〈2 lines〉 yet here is frutes, of gods electe Now when ye chriſte, in her laſt dayes dyd vyſyt her: with muche ſyknes and proued her fayth, ſunderye wayes to make her to, his owne lyknes ſhe paſt not then, for aney loſſe but meklye wt Chriſte: kyſte the croſſe. Her ſycknes dyd, continewe longe lyke vnto Iobes, or Tymothee yet in her paſſions, ſpalmes ſhe ſonge wher in ſhe had, felycyte whiche tokened, ſhe was chriſtes owne in whome ſuche paciens, he had ſowen Her harte was, infatigable throughe faith which ſhe: ſtaied vppon that nether welthe: nor paine was able her to remoue, from Sion ſtonne. but ſtyll in faithe, endured ſhe as one the, Inuyſyble ſee. From tope to toe, ſhe felt great payn as Lazerous, that bleſſed man whiche ſhe full meklye, did ſuſtayne although her frendes, forſoke her than with out all, mourmuration agenſte Gods ſweet, correction. And as Chriſtes great Ignomyne dyd harden ſtyll, the Iewes mynde ſo dyd her ſharpe, aduerſytye moue the wycked, fautes to fynde thynkinge her accurſſed to be when yet with God, moſt bleſt was ſhe For this her ſelf, perſwade ſhe dide yt though God here, her Faythe did trye yet at the laſt he wold her rydde and bring her to felycytye. wher ſhe is nowe, I dare well ſay in euerlaſting, myrthe and Ioye Yf that Marie Choſe, the beſt parte which Chriſte bad kepe, in memorye ſeinge from the ſame, ſhe did not ſtarte her Fame therfore, ſhall neuer dye amongeſt the Bleſſed, Femynyne though the wicked, ther at repyne. Yf Dorcas, lyberallyte be lefte in wryting, to her prayſe then is this worthie, that degree that euer walked, in her wayes for to the poore, ſhe was alone none ſuch I knowe, nowe ſhe is gone Yf that Lydda, Comendyd be for Ioye ſhe had, of holy men thys bi • g grafte, of the ſame tree ſhuld we nowe ceaſe, to praiſe her than in whom ſuch grace, there did abound that fewe her lyke, can nowe be found Her 〈…〉〈…〉 , take he • e •… behold a • d loke well, in thi • Gra •• which I preſent, here vnto you Oh followe her, and doe the ſame and God wil gyue you, praiſe and fame As ſhe thus hath, played her parte and nowe reſteth in Gods owne hand ſo death wyll ſtryke vs, with his darte whoſe power no fleſhe, can with ſtand God garunt therfore: to eache degree ſo happye in lyfe, and death to be. Well I doe hope, that ſhe ſhall onſe though lyne of lyfe, be now out raſte ryſe and reuyue, bothe fleſhe and bones and ſo in heuen, with Chriſt be plaſte thus leaue I her, in laſting Ioyes and for the ſame, geue God the praiſe. Amen. Finis quod Frances Newport.