Bishops(i)
16 Thou sonne of man, behold I wil take away from thee the pleasure of thyne eyes with a plague, yet shalt thou neither mourne nor weepe, neither shal thy teares run downe
17 Mourne in scilens, make no mourning of the dead, bynde the tyre of thy head vpon thee, and put on thy shoes vpon thy feete, couer not thy lippes, and eate no mans bread
18 So I spake vnto the people betymes in the morning, & at euen my wife dyed: then vpon the next morowe I dyd as I was commaunded