Fidelity (n.) is, aesthetically, a theatrical property — the phantom at the spinning-wheel awaiting the beloved; once he comes, aesthetics loses interest.
Fidelity (n.) is inconceivably great so long as she is not sure of the beloved — and just as great when he declines it.
Fidelity (n.) risks a double danger when kept to a negative resolution: it goes unrewarded, a withered glory, and it may be rewarded at last by repentance.
Fidelity (n.) can be a weapon in marriage: the husband who worries his wife to death by his marital fidelity is indignant at the thought of such falseness.
Fidelity (n.) so grandiose it raises the question: did he go mad because he was faithful to the girl, or was he faithful because he was mad?
Fidelity (n.) has a romantic logic: let him have seduced ten girls, she'll take him at any price — but if he is married, she cannot have him.
Fidelity (n.) as the true retention of love is the power of giving it up expressing itself as holding on — the true and well-assured hovering.
Fidelity (n.) waits fifteen years for one rewarding instant in the knight; in the husband, it is fifteen years of possessing and continuously re-acquiring what he has.