Sometimes he thinks Rosencrantz is just as mad as his Prince--but the difference between them is like a kitten to a tiger. His Prince's madness is despair and anguish, frantic kisses and whispered half-words, endless tragedy. Rosencrantz, instead, offers flowers the colour of sunshine and an exchange of words that in the midst of its cleverness is ridiculous, and in its foolishness wise. Rosencrantz smiles and pats his shoulder and wants to love him like a child--and Horatio accidentally begins to love Rosencrantz more.
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Sometimes he thinks Rosencrantz is just as mad as his Prince--but the difference between them is like a kitten to a tiger. His Prince's madness is despair and anguish, frantic kisses and whispered half-words, endless tragedy. Rosencrantz, instead, offers flowers the colour of sunshine and an exchange of words that in the midst of its cleverness is ridiculous, and in its foolishness wise. Rosencrantz smiles and pats his shoulder and wants to love him like a child--and Horatio accidentally begins to love Rosencrantz more.