ENGLAND'S Mad Petition To the Right HONOURABLE The, etc.  
The Humble Petitions of above 12. Millions of Well-affected (before so ill distracted) people of all sorts, Ages, Sexes and sises within the Kingdom of England and Dominion of Wales, all desiring the enlargement of Bedlam, and other respective place in the Cities of London and Westminster, with other Cities, Towns, and Boroughs, throughout the Kingdom and Dominion aforesaid.  
Presented to the Houses on Thursday, August 26. 1647.  
Aug: 27 Printed at London betwixt Bishops-gate-street and morefield's, in the year of England's recovery of her madness, 1647.   

To the Right Honourable the, etc. The Humble Petition, etc.  
Humbly showeth,  
THat whereas we your Honour's poor Petitioners, having most lamentably served more than a Pentarquie (even almost the time of an Apprenticeship) to the Lunary profession (or Art Madcap) wherein we have been so miserably proficient, that Herostrates Franciscus Gaticus, Balthasar de Castro, Diego Engrenis, and even Adam Bolacius himself (so celebrated by Antiquity) were but mere novices to us; we do outstrip in mad humours all our Predecessors; whatsoever mad exploits have been reported as done heretofore, to ours will hold no parallel; we have exceedingly surpassed all the mad shavers, mad Companions, mad Blades, mad Rognes', mad Rascals, mad Toms, mad Maudlin's, mad Besses, and madcaps what or whosoever: How we have justified the premises in these late past years, hath been sufficiently, and if it be possible, more than apparent to all Christendom; England was the Theatre for action, and the gazing (and admiring world) the Spectators; were ever any of our Predecessors so frantic, as to engage Lives and Fortunes in as unnatural war against an unequalled virtuous King, our dread, undoubted, and Anointed Sovereign? Were ever Turks, Tartars, or Cannibals, so barbarously inclined as we have been, making no esteem not difference between blood and blood; kindred or alien? Hath not the father murdered the son, the son the father; brother hath (Gaine-like) killed brother, the uncle slain his nephew, and the nephew his Uncle, and thought they had done good and godly service? Have we not been so frantic, that without any legal consideration or suspicion of eyes or thoughts; we have madly dislocated a principal Joint of our Parliament (and indeed next to the head) and yet we are so consoperated in our Lethargy, that we have not so much as mentioned it for a fault, and that is the Places and Vo●es of the Bishops, for ever since Parliaments have been used in England, all till this present) have consisted of Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and the House of Commons, but now these spiritual Lords (which are the Bishops) are not once named (nor thought on) and yet we pretend for a legal and complete Parliament, is not this extreme madness? what is, if this be not, when such a notorious thing as this is, shall pass by (and through) so many eyes and ears, without taking notice of?  
In the next place, have we not madly thrust out of doors our ancient and Orthodox Faith, and both willingly & foolishly lent our hands to pull in unheard of Novelisme, Fantastic profanation, and even Mimicie in Divine Worship? We have translated the Episcopal Cathedra, to the Cobbler's Chair; the Doctor's Pulpit, to the Cooper's Tub; the East and West end of the Church, to the Tailor's Tables end; and the Weaver, (whose shuttle runs through his brains as well as his Loom) takes upon him to be a wrester of God's Word (out of its proper sense) because it shall be like himself, void of good sense: The Plebeian will be a Predicater of highest Mysteries; and the Sylvestrick Swain is become a Reverend Rabin of Revelations.  
Nay, moreover (Right Horrible) we your poor Petitioners are so egregiously infatigated, and so strenuously infatuated with the preposterous vain of Diabolical zeal, that to blaspheme God seriously, and rail against our Sovereign sincerely, hath instead of Atheism and Treason, been accounted (among us spiritual mad people) for Religious duties; our women (a thing unexampled in any precedent age, whom the Apostle prohibits speaking in the Church) are grown so impudently mad, that they assume the office of Preaching; so that it well appears (Right Horrible) that between the Incubus and the Succubus, (those male and female Devils) these Predicating Tradesmen, and these dis-illuminated women were begotten; and although Humphrey thinks the time too long to be barred from Jones bed, for the month of her lying in, but makes use of (in the interim) his double-diligent Nurse, or his Neighbour's wives assistance, under the pretence of a tolerated Gandermonth, yet he (and indeed all we mad people) thinks it a small matter to separate gracious Charles and Mary, not for a month, or months, but for whole years; what madness ever equalled this? What Spirit but the Devil can dictate such horrid and mischievous thoughts as we have been possessed with (and hope to be dispossessed of by your pious endeavours?)  
We old men and women, whose age should admit of no novelty, are as fare intoxicated with the supine Salad of this illiterate Lettuce, that forgetting all antiquity (and the example of our prudent Predecessors) we have (as being indeed turned children again) as greedily sucked in the Milk of Schism, and overthrow of Government, as the youngest addle brain of them all. We of the middle sort (of men) have madly armed ourselves, madly marched into the Field, madly waged Battle, madly killed one another, not regarding (as before is mentioned) either Proximity, Consanguinity, Affinity, Alliance, Christianity, Vicinity, or Natural Affection. We the women, both old, middle aged, and young, have with our tongues been as active (as men with their hands) to draw the cords of ruin upon the whole Nation, as if we had been to persuade all Christendom to take up Arms (against Christ's) and our common enemy the Turk. We the younger sort of men, Boys, Apprentices, and Striplings, (especially in and about the Cities of London, and West. Villages adjacent, and Lines of Communication, have madly put ourselves forward by the notion and example of mad, bloodthirsty Reformadoes and Commanders, to set the said City, and consequently the whole Kingdom on a flame of a new and most horrible destructive war.  
Briefly (right Horrible) we your Petitioners, of all Ages, Sorts, Sizes, Sexes, Sects, and Complexions, have madly involved ourselves in an (almost) universal Lunacy and Apostasy from God and our King; from Religion, to Sensuality; from Virtue, to Vice; from Chastity, to lubricity; from Christian Charity, to Heathenish Cruelty; from Unity, to Singularity; from Piety, to Hypocrisy; from Verity, to Vanity; from Humility, to superbity; from Moderation, to Ostentation; from the right understanding of Divine Mysteries, to blind Zeal without knowledge; and from the Path of Heaven, to the Ways of Hell, eternal Death and Destruction. This our deplorable Condition, be pleased with your Power and Charity rightly to consider; and weighing in the Balance of your unquestionable (and infallible) intellects, every Part, parcel, Branch, and Bud of the premises, vouchsafe to let our mad Petition find as favourable access to your Honours, as many Petitions (in the like nature) have found heretofore: The sum of all our desires is, that you will take into mature consideration (and commiseration) That whereas a great multitude of people, of both Sexes, commonly called Mad people (but nothing near so Mad as we) are confined in an Hospital, between Bishops-gate-street and morefield's, vulgarly named Bedlam (or Bethlem) that you will be pleased to turn them out into the wide world, and let us (for so many as the said Hospital can contain) to be possessed of their rooms: for indeed the case is plain (and therefore considerable) that those people (for the most part) grew distracted through super-abundant Love, not finding a reciprocal correspondency in affection; but (wretched) we are Mad through superabundance of Malice, we most madly and desperately hating, maligning, abusing (both with Tongue and Hand) a gracious, loving, merciful, pious, and prudent King (the mirror of Monarches and example of Princes) who all this too long time of our hayre-brayned Distraction, hath wooed and invited us to his Highness' love, patiently expecting the returning of our Senses to their offices, and us to our just obedience: but all to little, or no purpose; we were madly resolved, and so went madly on, to our own and the hazard of the whole Kingdom's Ruin.  
Furthermore, be pleased to take notice, that the said Hospital being very small (in respect of our vast number) to give a charitable Purge to all the Prisons in and about the Cities of London and Westminster, the Villages adjacent, and Lines of Communication, and also to all other respective Prisons throughout the Kingdom of England and the Dominion of Wales, wherein are most unnaturally and cruelly enclosed and detained many honest, sober, wise, discreet, religious, and virtuous Knights, Esquires, Gentlemen, and others of good rank and quality, only (and solely) for their integrity and loyalty to God and his Anointed; these we would likewise (by the aforesaid Purge) have relaxed, discharged, and restored both to their Liberties and Livelyhoods, we madly possessing their places: notwithstanding the premises, we do desire (in this general work of Justice and Mercy) to except some who are now in Prison (among those sober men aforesaid) that are altogether (if not madder) as mad as the maddest of us all, and chiefly (as the Chief indeed) John Lilburne, who being a mad Lieutenant-Colonel already, we desire to make Commander in Chief of all our Mad multitude.  
Lastly, when by these Chains of Affliction we shall be restored to our lost Wits, that then you will be mildly pleased to accept of a sober Petition for our lost Rights, Religion, Laws, Liberties, and Privileges, all which we (miserable mad people) have purchased with the loss of our Wits, and Loyalty, and some of us, Limbs and Live.  
This if your Wisdoms shall think convenient to grant, it will be a Beacon to your Charity, a Lantern to your Lenity, a Mirror of your Mercy, and a Trumpet to your Fame; and we your poor Petitioners (as in duty obliged) shall be ever beholding to your Clemency, and always pray for your increase of Grace, and Loyalty towards God and Caesar, and an equal, legal, and charitable distribution of all the Wealth which you (by your Wit and Subtlety) have gotten of us foolish Mad People, etc.   

A Postscript concerning the delivery and Receipt of the foresaid Mad Petition.  

No sooner this Petition came unto  
the hands of those to whom it was presented,  
But all of them (as well the high as low)  
began to rave; Thus being discontented,  
They gave this Answer: Why, you frantic Elves,  
Sue you to us, who are stark mad ourselves?   

Have you not danced after our mad Pipe?  
have we not been examples to you all?  
Think you, if that our wits were sound and ripe,  
we could ourselves stand by, and see you fall?  
No, no, Plebeians, we'll no further wrong you,  
We are as mad as he that's mad'st among you.   

Yet be you comforted (and so are we)  
hoping we shortly shall our wits recover;  
We something now regard his Majesty,  
so let the people do all England over:  
Then, by God's Blessing, (to our joy and gladness)  
We shall see England cured of her Madness.   

By th'influence of that bright Northern Star,  
which now auspiciously upon us shines,  
Mad England shall regain her wits so far,  
that all shall praise his Name, who thus inclines  
The hearts of Subjects to their Sovereign Prince;  
O such a Cure, Mad England lacked long since.    
FINIS.