Eager to use his prattling tongue

Eager to use his prattling tongue,
Fineer, whose pigtail dangling hung,
An empty son of Mars, one day
Was heedless strutting by the way
Where Bedlam stands, when with surprise
Mad Tom he at the casement spies:
Tom Thunder, who had been a good,
A jovial, and a gallant blood.
'So ho! my dear, what! - in this place,
In Bedlam! Bless me! What's the case?'
'Upon my honour, soul and word,
For the same cause you wear a sword.
Let all the world astonish'd hear!
'Twas my own friends that brought me here'
(His redd'ning eyeballs darting fury),
'Not my own merit, I assure ye.'