You talk of Pirithous' and Theseus' love...

Yes.

You talk of Pirithous' and Theseus' love.

Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasoned,

More buckled with strong judgment, and their needs

The one of th' other may be said to water

Their intertangled roots of love. But I,

And she I sigh and spoke of, were things innocent,

Loved for we did, and like the elements

That know not what nor why, yet do effect

Rare issues by their operance, our souls

Did so to one another. What she liked

Was then of me approved, what not, condemned,

No more arraignment. The flower that I would pluck

And put between my breasts---O, then but beginning

To swell about the blossom---she would long

Till she had such another, and commit it

To the like innocent cradle, where, Phoenix-like,

They died in perfume. On my head no toy

But was her pattern; her affections---pretty,

Though haply hers careless were---I followed

For my most serious decking. Had mine ear

Stol'n some new air, or at adventure hummed one

From musical coinage, why, it was a note

Whereon her spirits would sojourn---rather, dwell

on---

And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsal---

Which fury-innocent wots well comes in

Like old importment's bastard---has this end,

That the true love 'tween maid and maid may be

More than in sex individual.

Shakespeare, William, The Two Noble Kinsmen, Act 1, Sc. 3