The Mad Man's MORRICE:
OR,
A WARNING for young Men to have a care,
How they in LOVE intangled are;
Wherein by Experience you shall find,
His Trouble and Grief, with Discontent of Mind.
To a pleasant new Tune, etc.
Licens'd and Enter'd according to Order.
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HEard you not lately of a Man,
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that went besides his wits,
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And naked through the streets he ran,
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wrapt in his frantick fits?
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My honest Neighbours, it is I,
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hark how the People flout me,
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See where the Mad-man comes, they cry,
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with all the Boys about me.
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Into a pond stark naked I ran,
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and cast away my cloaths, Sir,
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Without the help of any Man,
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made shift to get away, Sir:
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How I got out I have forgot,
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I do not well remember,
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Or whether it was cold or hot
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in June or in December.
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Tom Bedlams but a Sage to me,
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I speak in sober sadness,
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For more strange visions do I see,
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then he in all his madness;
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When first to me this chance befel,
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about the market walkt I,
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With capon's feathers in my cap,
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and to myself thus talkt I:
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Did you not see my Love of late,
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like Titan in her glory?
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Did you not know she was my Mate,
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and I must write her story?
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With pen of gold on silver leaf,
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I will so much befriend her,
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For why, I am of that belief,
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none can so well commend her.
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Saw you not Angels in her eyes,
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whilst that she was aspeaking?
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Smelt you not smells like Paradise,
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between two rubies breaking?
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Is not her hair more pure than gold,
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of finest spider's spinning?
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Methinks in her I do behold,
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my joys and woes beginning.
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Is not a dimple in her cheek,
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each eye a star that's starting?
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Is not all graces install'd in her,
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each step all joys imparting?
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Methings I see her in a cloud,
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with graces round about her;
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To them I call and cry aloud,
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I cannot live without her.
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Then raging towards the sky I rove,
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thinking to catch her hand,
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O then to Jove I call an cry,
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to let her by me stand:
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I look behind and there I see
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my shadow me beguile,
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I wish she were as near to me,
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which makes my Worship smile.
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There is no Creature can compare
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with my beloved Nancy;
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Thus I buil'd castles in the air,
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this is the fruit of fancy:
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My thoughts mount high above the sky,
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of none I stand in awe,
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Although my body here doth lye
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upon a pad of straw.
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I was as good a harmless Youth,
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before base Cupid caught me;
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Or his own Mother with her charms,
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into this case hath brought me:
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Stript and whipt now must I be,
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in Bedlam bound in chains;
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Good People, now you all may see
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what Love hath for his pains.
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When I was young as other are,
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with Gallants did I flourish,
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O then I was the properest Lad
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that was in all the Parish:
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The bracelets which I us'd to wear,
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about my arms so tender,
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Are turned into iron plates,
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about my body slender.
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My silken suits do now decay,
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my cups of gold are vanished,
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And all my Friends do wear away,
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as I from them were banished:
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My silver cups are turn'd to earth,
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i'm jeer[']d of every Clown:
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I was a better Man by birth,
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till Fortune cast me down.
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I am out of frame and temper too,
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though I am somewhat chearful;
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O this can Love and Fancy do,
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if that you be not careful:
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O set a watch before your eyes,
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least they betray your heart,
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And make you Slaves to vanities,
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to act a Mad-man's part.
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Declare this to each Mother's Son,
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unto each honest Lad;
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Let them not do as I have done,
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lest they like me grow Mad:
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If Cupid strike, be sure of this,
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let Reason rule Affection,
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So shalt thou never do amiss,
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by Reason's good direction.
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I have no more to say to you,
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my Keepers now doth chide me,
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Now must I bid you all adieu,
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God knows what will betide me:
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To picking straws now must I go,
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my time in Bedlam spending;
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Good Folks, you your Beginning know,
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but do not know your Ending.
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