O THAT I were sly PROTEUS! for to take
On me that form which most I like or wish:
Then would I change myself unto the shape
Of that thy little whelp, thy joy and bliss.
Into that little worm thou so dost like;
And dallying, play'st with him both day and night.
Those savoury smacks, those busses, sweet which be,
Which thou to him dost give, should all be mine:
And I would make my heart to leap for glee;
Whilst I did lick that bosom fair of thine.
But since I to despair of this am brought:
My wish shall PROTEUS be; thy dog, my thought!