The concept of treating one's spouse with love, honor, and respect has taken a beating of late, so it's truly a thrill to read of the deaths of Sir Edward Downes, 85, and his wife, Joan, 74. The much-honored British orchestra conductor put his eternal mark on "til death do us part" by flying to Switzerland last week to take his own life at the side of his cancer-ravaged wife.

Unlike newly enlightened Washington State, Britain's archaic no-assisted-suicide laws have resulted in a bizarre travel industry as 120 or so dying citizens have left the country in search of dignified deaths. This case has raised the tension level over that misbegotten system (particularly since Sir Downes wasn't terminally ill), but let's leave that debate for another day. The loveliness of this story is the best encapsulated in this first-hand report of their deaths:

On Friday, the children said, they watched, weeping, as their parents drank "a small quantity of clear liquid" before lying down on adjacent beds, holding hands.
"Within a couple of minutes they were asleep, and died within 10 minutes," Caractacus Downes, the couple's 41-year-old son, said in the interview after his return to Britain. "They wanted to be next to each other when they died." He added, "It is a very civilized way to end your life, and I don't understand why the legal position in this country doesn’t allow it."

The couple had been married 54 years.

Incidentally, Caractacus may be the best name ever; especially as I'm assuming he was named for the wacky automobile inventor in Ian Fleming's children’s classic, "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" (yes, that Ian Fleming). The Downeses named their daughter Boudicca—not quite as much fun for the tongue as Caractacus, but still, the name of a Celtic warrior queen who led a bloody revolt against the wretched Romans.