[Of a widow:] And to make carnall appetite content, To take lacke of beautie but as an eye ſore. The fayre and the foule, by darke are lyke ſtore. When all candels be out, all cats be grey, All thingis are then of one colour, as who ſey. And this prouerbe ſaith, for quenching hot deſyre, Foule water as ſoone as fayre, will quenche hot fyre.

Of old time coaches were not known in this Iland, but chariots, or whirlicotes.

a telling blow

A toxic waste dump.