Scold

A ſclaunderous tunge, a tunge of a ſkolde, Worketh more miſchiefe than can be tolde; That, if I wiſt not to be controlde, Yet ſomwhat to ſay I dare well be bolde,

“Well, I won’t have it, and that’s enough.” She laughed, for her voice had a little been that of the professional scold.

Near the pond was the ducking-stool where many a village scold had her tongue temporarily stilled.

Consider the contrast with the United States, where deficit scolds dominated Beltway discourse in 2010–2011 but never managed to dictate the terms of political debate […]

I advise that you refrain from using that kind of language at home, lest your mother scold you.

A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding her —

Molly the dairymaid came a little way from the rickyard, and said she would pluck the pigeon that very night after work. She was always ready to do anything for us boys; and we could never quite make out why they scolded her so for an idle hussy indoors. It seemed so unjust. Looking back, I recollect she had very beautiful brown eyes.

[T]he merry songsters of the wood now filled the air with their jubilee; the nutcracker began his monotonous clattering, the chaffinches and the wrens sang high in the sky, the blackcock scolded and blustered loudly, the thrush sang his mocking songs and libellous ditties about everybody, but became occasionally a little sentimental and warbled gently and bashfully some tender stanzas.