We are all in one large, widespread trance. We are overpowered by the sound of applause, the smell of leather, the thrill of being swept off like that. The theatre, with its bottle green seats and plaster-of-paris wall figurines is suddenly no more just stone and brick. It's alive. It's breathing. It's clapping with the rest of us.

The actors, oh good lord the brilliance, look like they are living their lines. It's like they rolled on their characters before walking on stage. They seem oblivious to the few hundred wide eyed people watching them. They aren't worried about pleasing anyone. They are a part of something amazing, as it unfolds with all its delicious details and quivering emotions. 

There is then a surge of euphoria as the last sentence is delivered with the unnerving precision. The trance is broken and the people notice how red their hands have gone from clapping passionately without realizing it.