There are perhaps higher ideals of love. What dramatist or preacher has said anything finer than the words of the great cavalier lyrist:—
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more.
One of the best known of the Tudor dramatists, Habington, says:—
He is but
A coward lover, whom or death or hell
Can fright from ’s Mistress.
The enormity of Michael’s sacrifice, the very unpardonableness of his offence, constitute the sweetest savour to him as to her. To her it brings an intoxicating, a delirious triumph, to him a sense how much he must hug to himself and cherish a possession secured at so fearful a price.
It is perhaps the distinguishing characteristic of Michael’s madness that the sin once committed is not repented. Landor talks of