"I have a name here," Claudius says, working aimlessly through his thoughts, lulled by the rhythm of Dionysus's rocking. "It was a rare thing, in Elsinore, to be called by my name. My brother called me a beast and a serpent. Courtiers called me prince, or your highness. Sometimes they talked around me, like an untoward secret, without calling me anything at all. I had to learn to read between the lines." Between the lines was the only place he felt allowed to exist.