Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia (and poor audience)

Watching Hamlet in the open air at Oxford Castle. An efective, fast-moving (and heavily but appropriately cut) production. The first half grips the audience in the early evening sunshine. But in the interval, the heavens open. We huddle under umbrellas by the castle walls, watching the rain teem down on the stage and soak into our canvas seats. The interval is extended, the rain stops, the water is swept off the stage. The play resumes: Claudius's "Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens" gets a laugh. The rain resumes: soon it is torrential. As Laertes carries Ophelia's body through the puddle that was the stage ("Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia") it is clear that we cannot continue and the actors give up the unequal struggle against the elements. I have rarely been so wet! But not one of the audence left during the ten or fifteen minutes in which the performers were struggling to be heard against the rainfall and the lights illuminated the falling sheets of water.