The Merchant and the Donkey

3.18. De negotiatore et asino
Caxton: Of the Marchaunt and of the asse
Many one ben trauaylled after theyr dethe / wherfor men ought not to desyre the dethe / As reherceth Esope by this fable / Of a marchaunt whiche ladde an Asse laden vnto the market / And for to be the sooner at the market / he bete his asse / and sore prycked hym / wherfor the poure asse wysshed & desyred his owne deth / wenyng to hym that after his dethe he shold be in reste / And after that he had be wel bete & chaced he deyde / And his mayster made hym to be flayne / and of his skynne he dyd doo make tambours whiche ben euer bete /
And thus for what payne that men may haue durynge his lyf / he ought not to desyre and wysshe his dethe / For many one ben / whiche haue grete payne in this world that shall haue a gretter in the other world / For the man hath no reste for the dethe but for his merytes
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The Donkey and the Merchant

THE DONKEY AND THE MERCHANT. You will find the fable in English on this page; scroll to see if there are multiple English versions. [more info]

The Ass and the Priests of Cybele

4.01. THE ASS AND THE PRIESTS OF CYBELE. He who has been born to ill luck, not only passes an unhappy life, but even after death the cruel rigour of destiny pursues him.
The Galli, priests of Cybele, were in the habit, on their begging excursions, of leading about an Ass, to carry their burdens. When he was dead with fatigue and blows, his hide being stripped off, they made themselves tambourines therewith. Afterwards, on being asked by someone what they had done with their favourite, they answered in these words: “He fancied that after death he would rest in quiet; but see, dead as he is, fresh blows are heaped upon him.” [more info]

The Ass and Priests of Cybele

3.18. THE ASS AND PRIESTS OF CYBELE.
The luckless wretch that’s born to woe
Must all his life affliction know—
And harder still, his cruel fate
Will on his very ashes wait.
Cybele’s priests, in quest of bread,
An Ass about the village led,
With things for sale from door to door;
Till work’d and beaten more and more,
At length, when the poor creature died,
They made them drums out of his hide.
Then question’d “how it came to pass
They thus could serve their darling Ass?”
The answer was, “He thought of peace
In death, and that his toils would cease;
But see his mis’ry knows no bounds,
Still with our blows his back resounds.” [more info]