When the ass had eaten his macaroon, I press'd him to come in--the poor beast was heavy loaded----his legs seem'd to tremble under him----he hung rather backwards, and as I pull'd at his halter, it broke short in my hand----he look'd up pensive in my face-- "Don't thrash me with it--but if you will, you may" ----If I do, said I, I'll be d----d.

When the ass had eaten his macaroon, I pressed him to come in. The poor beast was heavily loaded - his legs seemed to tremble - and as I pulled at his halter, it broke in my hand. He looked up pensive as if to say, 'Don't thrash me with it.'
'If I do,' said I, 'I'll be d__d.' 