They couldn’t help it. Rabadash had been wagging his ears all the time and as soon as Aslan said， “The hour has struck！” the ears began to change. They grew longer and more pointed and soon were covered with grey hair. And while everyone was wondering where they had seen ears like that before， Rabadash‘s face began to change too. It grew longer， and thicker at the top and larger eyed， and the nose sank back into the face （or else the face swelled out and became all nose） and there was hair all over it. And his arms grew longer and came down in front of him till his hands were resting on the ground： only they weren’t hands， now， they were hooves. And he was standing on all fours， and his clothes disappeared， and everyone laughed louder and louder （because they couldn‘t help it） for now what had been Rabadash was， simply and unmistakably， a donkey. The terrible thing was that his human speech lasted just a moment longer than his human shape， so that when he realized the change that was coming over him， he screamed out：
“Oh， not a Donkey！ Mercy！ If it were even a horse. e’en.a hor.eeh.auh， eeh.auh.” And so the words died away into a donkey‘s bray.