00:00National Theatre Live, the best of British theatre, in a cinema near you.
00:05Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, thaw, and resolve itself into a dew.
00:17Or that the Everlasting had not fixed his cannon against self-slaughter.
00:24Oh, God.
00:27God?
00:30How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this whirl.
00:39Fireball.
00:42Oh, fire, it is an unweeded garden that grows to seed.
00:48Things rank and gross in nature possess it merely.
00:54That it should come to this, but two months dead.
01:00Nay, not so much, not too, so excellent a king, that was to this, Hyperion to a satyr.
01:12So loving to my mother that he might not beteem the winds of heaven visit her face too roughly.
01:18Heaven and earth, must I remember?
01:20No, I...
01:25It's just like, if you should do something...
01:25Why, why, why?
01:25God That dusk
01:25Ass Trust Bye!
01:25Bye!
01:29Bye!
01:32Von Sophie!
01:34Bye!
01:40Bye!
01:40Grazie a tutti
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