This is so marvellously told that it almost seems probable.
So the description of Mark Antony:
"For his bounty
There was no winter in't—an autumn t'was
That grew the more by reaping.
His delights Were dolphin-like—they showed his back above
The element they lived in."
Think of the astronomical scope and amplitude of this:
"Her bed is India—there she lies a pearl."
Is there anything more intense than these words of Cleopatra?
"Rather on Nilus mud lay me stark naked
And let the water-flies blow me into abhorring."
Or this of Isabella:
"The impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies,
And strip myself to death as to a bed
That longing I've been sick for, ere I yield
My body up to shame."
Is there an intellectual man in the world who will not agree with this?