On the willows there, we hung up our lyres

Claudius laughs, but softly so his hands won't shake the scissors. If he didn't have the self-discipline, he'd have already shuddered at Galahad's words, and a frisson runs through him knowing that -- knowing he'll control himself for this act of service, knowing he's been entrusted with Galahad's care. "I'd come to thee as my shepherd, to show me quiet waters. Whenever thou lead'st me, I shall not want." Part of the care is worship. He handles Galahad the way a man would a holy relic, restoring him to his beauty, careful not to mar what makes him precious.