It's easier to bear than it would have been, even a few months ago -- the pain and despair of a perfect God's imperfect love isn't something he faces alone. Claudius understands, and that understanding is like a balm.

He sits quietly with the pain and the understanding. It's better than feeling nothing but despair. It draws him back to his body, and he finds his body something he can bear to inhabit again.

"I still choose thee," he says. "I choose thy love, not His. Thou art how I want to be loved."