The Scolding
WIFE
To a pleasant new Tune.
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THere was young-man for lucre of gain,
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He lov'd a Widow well,
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His Friends did tell him often and plain,
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in scolding she did excel.
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Why that is no matter, quoth he,
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so I may have her Bags of Gold,
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let her not spare to Brawl and Scold,
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For I'll be as merry as merry may be.
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This Woodcock wedded his hearts desire,
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a Widow with Money enough;
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They was not so soon out of the Quire
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[e'er] she begun to snuff:
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Methink you be very fine,
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you can no quicker get you hence,
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without such large and great expence,
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Of sugared Sops and musick to dine.
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They was not all at supper set,
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or at the board sate down,
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E'er she began to brawl and scold,
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and call'd him a peaking Clown:
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That nothing he could doe
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that was pleasing in her sight;
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but still she scolded day and night,
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Which made this merry man's heart full of woe.
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If he had provided any good cheer
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for him and her alone,
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Then she wou'd a said, with words more hot,
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you might a done this of your own.
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If sparingly he will be,
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then she would have said with words more hot
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I will not be pinch'd of what I brought,
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But of mine own I will be free.
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That nothing he could doe
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That was pleasing in his sight,
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But still she scolded day and night,
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Which made this merry man's hearts full of woe.
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O God in his Prayer he did beseech
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To take his Life away,
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A hundred times he curst
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The Priest, the Clerk, the Sexton too,
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And tongue that did the Widow woe,
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And legs that brought him first.
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It fell out upon a day
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that with his friends he did devise
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to brake her of her scolding guise,
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And what they did they shall be weary:
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They got and ty'd her Arms
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She could not them undoe,
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And many other pretty Charms
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they used her unto,
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Her Petticoat was rent and torn,
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Upon her Back they did put on,
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They tore her Smock sleeves all along,
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As if a Bedlam she had been born;
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Her hair about her head they shook,
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All with a bramble Bush.
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They ring her Arms in every crook
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Till out the blood did gush,
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And with an Iron Chain
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Fast by the Leg he did her tye,
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There within an old dark House by:
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So soon he went away again,
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And with a Countenance so sad,
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He did his Neighbours call:
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Quoth he, my Wife is Mad,
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She doth so rave and brawl:
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Help Neighbours all therefore,
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To see if that you can reclaim
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My Wife into her Wits again
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For she is troubled wondrous sore.
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