Fable in Burlesque: The Pig, the Goat, and the Sheep

A Goat, a Fat Pig and a Wether,
To Fair in Tumbril jogg'd together:
They were not thus to Smithfield jumbled,
To see how Iacob danc'd or tumbled.
No, story tells us that the Carter
Went with design all three to barter.
The Pig scream'd out, as he were just
By Talgol going to be truss'd,
Tore all their Ears and his own Throat;
Mean while the Wether and the Goat,
Two very quiet harmless wretches,
Astonish'd at Don Porker's screiches;
Wonder'd from whence should come his fear,
For they perceiv'd no danger near.
Then says the Carter, what a Murrain
Ails thee? what makes thre keep this stir in
Such civil company as thou'rt in?
Do thy two Comrades make this din?
What a meek person is that Wether!
And how demure the Goat! has either
Open'd his mouth once? no I warrant
They are both wiser. They are errant
Dolts, says the Pig, both stark stone blind;
Could they but see, like me, the Wind,
Sheeps-head would set up such a larum,
As would, were twenty Wolves here, scare 'um:
And that grave Booby with the Beard,
Would further than my self be heard.
For Talgol's wheeson scraping whittle
Will soon convert them both to victual:
They're lean, you'll say, and I'm mistaken:
But how shall I' man save my Bacon?
Whom Wastcoateer has made a Fat Pig,
For some Cits ravenous Spouse, with Brat big.
'Tis for her maw I'm grown this Squab bit;
May the Jade choak with the first gobbet.
Thus did the Pig his point maintain
With subtile argument, but vain:
Nor griefs, nor fears, change fates decrees,
Then he's most wise who least foresees.

Moral.

IN vain by foresight we would mischiefs shun,
What Fate has once determin'd must be done.
The present with a dauntless mind enjoy:
What wretched Fool would his own bliss destroy!
Who lives in apprehension urges Fate;
Too soon 'twill come, and he'll repent too late.
Better to hope for what we most desire,
Than vainly into future ills inquire.
Yet Man perhaps unjustly we accuse,
Who ne're inquires but when he can't refuse.
For as when Fate would undiscover'd lye,
What it designs no Mortal can descry;
So when it pleases to be understood,
Mankind cannot be ignorant if it wou'd.
Vrg'd on by Destiny we headlong go,
Forc'd to seek that which most we fear to know.
But ah! how curst is he whom that decree,
Which makes his doom obliges to foresee.