Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/All's Well that Ends Well

All's Well that Ends Well.

A friend of mine was married to a scold,
To me he came, and all his troubles told.
Said he, "She's like a woman raving mad."
"Alas! my friend," said I," that's very bad!"
"No. not so bad," said he; "for, with her, true,
I had both house and laud, and money too."
"That was well," said I;
"No, not so well," said he;
"For I and her own brother
Went to law with one another;
I was cast, the suit was lost,
And every penny went to pay the cost."
"That was bad," said I:
"No, not so bad," said he:
"For we agreed that he the house should keep,
And give to me four score of Yorkshire sheep;
All fat, and fair, and fine, they were to be."
" Well, then," said I. "sure that was well for thee?
"No, not so well," said he;
"For, when the sheep I got,
They every one died of the rot."
"That was bad," said I;
"No, not so bad," said he;
"For I had thought to scrape the fat
And keep it in an oaken vat;
Then into tallow melt for winter store."
"Well, then," said I, "that's better than before?"
"'Twas not so well, said he;
"For having got a clumsy fellow
To scrape the fat and melt the tallow;
Into the melting fat the fire catches,
And, like brimstone matches,
Burnt my house to ashes."
"That was bad," said I;
"No! not so bad," said he; "for, what is best,
My scolding wife has gone among the rest."