It's almost a shame, Claudius thinks, that Galahad has to be kindred spirits to him in this particular sorrow. It's that frustrated pain Galahad recognized in Claudius, the pain of wasting many years on waiting for an apology that wouldn't come. "I understand thee," he says, soft. "If thou can'st believe it. For all I hate the people who took care of me as a child ... it isn't a hate that precludes love. There were many times, I think, where I sincerely hoped someone say they knew they had hurt me, and regretted it. Even after that hope turned bitter, the hope of making them regret it ... I still cared a great deal."