It’s so charming — in Claudius’s opinion, anyway. Charming, and slightly ridiculous. He remembers flirting with even more ridiculous boys when he was younger, flattering their egos by comparing their voices to Apollo’s when they sang. “Thou sing’st so well,” he says with a laugh. “I have no one to compare thee to. I suppose I can do nothing but follow the words of thy ballad.” That said, he doesn’t talk, but puts his head on Apollo’s shoulder, making himself comfortable there.