Fab. XCVIII. The Father, Son, and Ass.
An Old Man, and his Son, a little Boy,
Drove an unloaded Ass to the next Fair,
And followd both on foot. A Country Man
Seeing this Sight, rallied them in this sort;
What's your design? do you lead out that Ass
To play i'th' Fields, as Pedants do young Boys?
Neither of you are fit to walk a foot,
One's past that labour, th' other not come to't.
By these true Jests the Father being stung,
Commanded the young Boy to mount the Ass,
Which, when another Country Fellow saw,
Here's a fine Show, said he, a lusty Boy
Riding, and an Old Fool creeping on foot.
This being heard, and judgd true, by th' Old Man,
He bids his Son alight, and rides himself,
Until he came to th' Entrance of a Town,
Where several idle People being met,
Gazd at him; Is it not a burning shame,
Said one, to see a lusty Fellow ride,
And a poor weak Boy trudging by his side:
Not being able to endure these Taunts,
He sets his Son behind him on the Croup;
A Traveller, who pitied the poor Ass,
Demanded, pray, what Crime has that Beast done,
To be so heavy loaded with two Clowns?
Have you a mind he should be Meat for Crows?
These various opinions put the Old Man
Out of his Wits, but yet in hopes to please,
He was resolvd to leave no Stone unturnd.
At last, he the Asses Legs together tied,
And bore him on his Shoulders, and his Sons
On a long Pole. At this unusual Sight,
The numerous Spectators laught out-right,
And at them every one let fly their Bolt,
And jeering, said, were ever two such Fools?
Were there, in Bedlam, ever two so mad?
The Father finding all he did displeasd,
And willing of his Burden to be easd,
Threw the Ass headlong into a deep Pool.
Thus the Farce ended, of the Ass and Fool.
The Moral.
They who will always change, and always mend,
As long as any Fool shall reprehend,
Will never bring their Labours to an end.
Another out of J. C. That is
They who're resolvd never to Wed, or Ride,
Until they find a Faultless Horse, or Bride,
Must always walk a-foot, and lie alone.
Another out of J. C. That is
If every Feather must in's proper place be laid.
How much time will be spent, before the Bed is made?
Another out of J. C. That is
Of Papp a hundred thousand brimful Pots,
Are not not enuf, to stop the mouths of Sots.
