All language subtitles for NoNT Live Part One 1

- As it is?
- As it is, yes please, absolutely

As it is. Thank you.
How very kind of you

How very kind

- Cheers
- Your health

- Please help yourself
- Terribly kind of you

Your good health

What was it I was saying,
as we arrived at your door?

- Ah... let me see
- Yes! I was talking about strength

- Do you recall?
- Strength. Yes

Yes. I was about to say, you see, that there are
some people who appear to be strong

Whose idea of what strength consists of
is persuasive

But who inhabit the idea and not the fact

What they possess is not strength
but expertise

They have nurtured and maintain
what is in fact a calculated posture

Half the time it works.
It takes a man of intelligence and perception...

...to stick a needle through that posture
and discern the essential flabbiness of the stance

- I am such a man
- You mean one of the latter?

One of the latter, yes,
a man of intelligence and perception

Not one of the former, oh no, not at all.
By no means

May I say how very kind it was of you
to ask me in?

In fact, you are kindness itself,
probably always are kindness itself

Now and in England and in Hampstead
and for all eternity

What a remarkably pleasant room

I feel at peace here.
Safe from all danger

But please don't be alarmed.
I shan't stay long

I never stay long, with others.
They do not wish it

And that, for me,
is a happy stale of affairs

My only security, do you see, my true comfort
and solace rests in the confirmation...

...that I elicit from people of all kinds
a common and constant level of indifference

It assures me that I am as I think myself
to be, that I am fixed, concrete

To show interest in me or, good gracious,
anything tending towards a positive liking of me...

...would cause in me
a condition of the acutest alarm

Fortunately, the danger is remote

I speak to you with this startling candour because
you are clearly a reticent man

And because you are a stranger to me,
and because you are clearly kindness itself

- Do you often hang about Hampstead Heath?
- No

But on your excursions, however rare...
on your rare excursions...

...you hardly expect
to run into the likes of me? I take it?

Hardly

I often hang about Hampstead Heath myself,
expecting nothing

I'm too old for any kind of expectation

- Don't you agree?
- Yes

A pitfall and snare, if ever there was one

But of course I observe a good deal,
on my peeps through twigs

A wit once entitled me a betwixt-twig peeper

- A most clumsy construction, I thought
- Infelicitous

- My Christ, your right
- What a wit

You're most acutely right.
All we have left is the English language

Can it be salvaged?
That is my question

- You mean in what rests its salvation?
- More or less

- Its salvation must rest in you
- It's uncommonly kind of you to say so

In you too, perhaps, although I haven't
sufficient evidence to go on, as yet

- You mean because I've said little?
- You are a quiet one. It's a great relief

Can you imagine two of us gabbling away like me?
It would be intolerable

By the way, with reference to peeping, I do feel it
incumbent upon me to make one thing clear

I don't peep on sex.
That's gone forever. You follow me?

When my twigs happen to shall I say rest their peep
on sexual conjugations, however periphrastic...

...I see only whites of eyes, so close,
they glut me, no distance possible

And when you can't keep the proper distance
between yourself and others...

When you can no longer
maintain an objective relation to matter...

The game's not worth the candle,
so forget it

And remember that what is obligatory
to keep in your vision is space

Space in moonlight particularly,
and lots of it

- You speak with the weight of experience behind you
- And beneath me

Experience is a paltry thing.
Everyone has it and will tell his tale of it

I leave experience to psychological interpreters,
the wetdream world

I myself can do any graph of experience you wish,
to suit your taste or mine. Child's play

The present will not be distorted

I am a poet. I am interested
in where I am eternally present and active

-I have gone too far, you think?
- I'm expecting you to go very much further

- Really? That doesn't mean I interest you, I hope?
- Not in the least

Thank goodness for that.
For a moment my heart sank

Nevertheless you are right. Your instinct is sound.
I could go further, in more ways than one

I could advance, reserve my defences,
throw on a substitute, call up the cavalry

Or throw everything forward
out of the knowledge that when joy overfloweth...

...there can be no holding of joy

The point I'm trying to make, in case
you've missed it, is that I am a free man

It's a long time
since we had a free man in this house

- We?
- I

- ls there another?
- Another what?

- People. Person
- What other?

- There are two mugs on that shelf
- The second is for you

- And the first?
- Would you like to use it?

Would you like some hot refreshment?

That would be dangerous.
I'll stick to your scotch, if I may

- Help yourself
- Thank you

I'll take a whisky with you,
if you would be so kind

-Certainly. Weren't you drinking vodka?
- I'll be happy to join you in a whisky

- You'll take it as it is, as it comes?
- Oh, absolutely as it comes

- Your very good health
- Yours

Tell me...
do you often hang about Jack Straw's Castle?

I knew it as a boy

Do you find it as beguiling a public house now
as it was in the days of the highwaymen?

When it was frequented by highwaymen?
Notably Jack Straw. The great Jack Straw

Do you find it much changed?

- It changed my life
- Good Lord. Did it really?

I refer to a midsummer night, when I shared a drink
with a Hungarian emigre, lately retired from Paris

- The same drink?
- By no means

You've guessed, I would imagine, that he was
an erstwhile member of the Hungarian aristocracy?

I did guess, yes

On that summer evening, led by him,
I first appreciated how quiet life can be...

...in the midst of yahoos and hullabaloos

He exerted on me a quite uniquely
calming influence, without exertion

Without any desire to influence.
He was so much older than me

My expectations in those days, and I confess
I had expectations in those days...

...did not include him
in their frame of reference

I'd meandered over to Hampstead Heath...

...a victim to memories of a more
than usually pronounced grisliness

And found myself, not much to my surprise,
ordering a pint at the bar of Jack Straw's Castle

This achieved, and having negotiated a path through a
particularly repellent lick-spittling herd of literati...

I stumbled, unseeing, with my pint, to his bald,
tanned, unmoving table. How bald he was

I think, after quite half my pint had descended,
never to be savoured again...

...that I spoke, suddenly,
suddenly spoke

And received a response, no other word will do,
a response, the like of which...

- What was he drinking?
- What?

- What was he drinking?
- Pernod

I was impressed more or less at that point,
by an intuition...

...that he possessed a measure of serenity
the like of which I had never encountered

What did he say?

- You expect me to remember what he said?
- No

What he said all those years ago
is neither here nor there

It was not what he said but possibly the way he sat
which has remained with me all my life...

...and has, I am quite sure, made me what I am

And I met you at the same pub tonight,
although at a different table

And I wonder at you, now,
as once I wondered at him

But will I wonder at you tomorrow, I wonder,
as I still wonder at him today?

- I cannot say
- It cannot be said

I'll ask you another question.
Have you any idea from what I derive my strength?

Strength? No

I have never been loved.
From this I derive my strength

Have you? Ever?

- Been loved?
- Oh, I don't suppose so

I looked up once into my mother's face. What I saw
there was nothing less than pure malevolence

I was fortunate to escape with my life

You will want to know what I had done
to provoke such hatred in my own mother

- You'd pissed yourself
- Quite right

- How old do you think I was at the time?
- Twenty-eight

Quite right.
However, I left home soon after

My mother remains, I have to say,
a terribly attractive woman in many ways

Her buns are the best

Her currant buns. The best

Would you be so kind as to pour me
another drop of whisky?

With pleasure

Perhaps it's about time I introduced myself.
My name is Spooner

I'm a staunch friend of the arts, particularly
the art of poetry, and a guide to the young

I keep open house.
Young poets come to me

They read me their verses.
I comment, give them coffee, make no charge

Women are admitted,
some of whom are also poets

Some are not. Some of the men are not.
Most of the men are not

But with the windows open to the garden...

My wife pouring long glasses of squash,
with ice, on a summer evening...

Young voices occasionally lifted
in unaccompanied ballad...

Young bodies lying
in the dying light...

...my wife moving through the shadows
in her long gown, what can ail?

I mean who can gainsay us? What quarrel
can be found with what is, Au fond...

...a gesture towards the sustenance and
preservation of art, and through art to virtue?

Through art to virtue.
To your continued health

When we had our cottage...

When we had our cottage
we gave our visitors tea, on the lawn

I did the same

- On the lawn?
- I did the same

- You had a cottage?
- Tea on the lawn

What happened to them? What happened
to our cottages? What happened to our lawns?

Be frank. Tell me.
You've revealed something

You've made an unequivocal reference to your past.
Don't go back on it

We share something. A memory of the bucolic life.
We're both English

In the village church,
the beams are hung with garlands...

...in honour of the young women of the parish,
reputed to have died virgin

However, the garlands
are not bestowed on maidens only

But on all who die unmarried,
wearing the white flower of a blameless life

You mean that not only young women of the parish
but also young men of the parish are so honoured?

I do

And that old men of the parish
who also died maiden are so garlanded?

- Certainly
- I am enraptured. Tell me more

Tell me more about the quaint little perversions
of your life and times. Tell me more...

...with all the authority and brilliance you can muster
about the socio-politico-economic structure...

...of the environment in which you attained
to the age of reason

- Tell me more
- There is no more

- Tell me then about your wife
- What wife?

How beautiful she was,
how tender and how true

Tell me with what speed she swung in the air,
with what velocity she came off the wicket

Whether she was responsive to finger spin,
whether you could bowl a shooter with her...

...or an offbreak with a legbreak action.
In other words, did she Google?

You will not say. I will tell you then
that my wife had everything

Eyes, a mouth, hair, teeth, buttocks, breasts,
absolutely everything. And legs

- Which carried her away
- Carried who away? Yours or mine?

Is she here now, your wife?
Cowering in a locked room, perhaps?

Was she ever here?
Was she ever there, in your cottage?

It is my duty to tell you
you have failed to convince

I am an honest and intelligent man.
You pay me less than my due

Are you, equally, being fair to the lady?
I begin to wonder whether...

...truly accurate and therefore essentially poetic
definition means anything to you at all

I begin to wonder whether you
do in fact truly remember her

Whether you truly did love her,
truly caressed her, truly did cradle her

Truly did husband her,
falsely dreamed or did truly adore her

I have seriously questioned these propositions
and I find them threadbare

Her eyes, I take it, were hazel?

Hazel shit

Good lord, good lord,
do I detect a touch of the maudlin?

Hazel shit. I ask myself,
have I ever seen hazel shit?

Or hazel eyes, for that matter?

Do I detect a touch of the hostile?

Do I detect, with respect...

...a touch of too many glasses of ale followed
by the great malt which wounds? Which wounds?

Tonight, my friend, you find me in the last lap
of a race I had long forgotten to run

A metaphor. Things are looking up

I would say, albeit on a brief acquaintance,
that you lack the essential quality of manliness

Which is to put your money where your mouth is

To pick up a pintpot
and know it to be a pintpot

And knowing it to be a pintpot,
to declare it as a pintpot

And to stay faithful to that pintpot as though
you had given birth to it out of your own arse

You lack that capability, in my view

Do forgive me my candour.
It is not method but madness

Heed me. I am a relevant witness.
And could be a friend

You need a friend

You have a long hike, my lad,
up which, presently, you slog unfriended

Never disdain a helping hand,
especially one of such rare quality

And it is not only the quality of my
offer which is rare

It is the act itself, the offer itself,
quite without precedent

I offer myself to you as a friend.
Think before you speak

Remember this. You've lost your wife of hazel hue,
you've lost her and what can you do

She will no more come back to you,
with a tillifola tillifola tillifoladi-foladi-foloo

No. No man's land does not move
or change or grow old

Remains forever... icy... silent

I have known this before.
The exit through the door, by way of belly and floor

What are you drinking? Christ I'm thirsty.
How are you? I'm parched

What are you drinking? It's bloody late.
I'm worn to a frazzle. This is what I want

Taxi? No chance. Taxi drivers are against me.
Something about me

Some unknown factor. My gait, perhaps.
Or perhaps because I travel incognito

Oh, that's better. Works wonders.
How are you? What are you drinking?

Who are you?
I thought I'd never make it. What a hike

And not only that. I'm defenseless.
I don't carry a gun in London

But I'm not bothered. Once you've done the East
you've done it all. I've done the East

But I still like a nice lighthouse like this one

Have you met your host? He's my father.
It was our night off tonight, you see

He was going to stay at home, listen to some Lieder.
I hope he had a quiet and pleasant evening

Who are you, by the way?
What are you drinking?

- I'm a friend of his
- You're not typical

- Who's this?
- His name's Friend

This is Mr Briggs. Mr Friend... Mr Briggs.
I'm Mr Foster

Old English stock. John Foster. Jack.
Jack Foster. Old English name

Foster. John Foster. Jack Foster. Foster.
This man's name is Briggs

- I've seen Mr Friend before
- Seen him before?

- I know him
- Do you really?

- I've seen you before
- Possibly, possibly

Yes. You collect the beer mugs
from the tables in a pub in Chalk Farm

The landlord is a friend of mine.
When he's shorthanded, I give him a helping hand

- Who says the landlord's a friend of yours?
- He does

- I'm talking about The Bull's Head in Chalk Farm
- Yes, yes. So am I

- So am I
- I know The Bull's Head. The landlord's a friend of mine

- He collects the mugs
- A first class pub. I've known the landlord for years

- He says he's a friend of the landlord
- He says he's a friend of our friend too

- What friend?
- Our host

- He's a bloody friend of everyone then
- He's everybody's bloody friend

- How many friends have you got altogether, Mr Friend?
- He probably couldn't count them

Well, there's me too, now.
I'm another one of your new friends

I'm your newest new friend.
Not him. Not Briggs. He's nobody's fucking friend

People tend to be a little wary of Briggs. They balk
at giving him their all. But me they like at first sight

- Sometimes they love you at first sight
- Sometimes they do

That's why, when I travel, I get all the gold,
nobody offers me dross

People take an immediate shine to me,
especially women, especially in Siam or Bali

He knows I'm not a liar.
Tell him about the Siamese girls

They loved him at first sight

- You're not Siamese though, are you?
- He's a very long way from being Siamese

- Ever been out there?
- I've been to Amsterdam

I mean that was the last place I visited.
I know Europe well

My name is Spooner, by the way

Yes, one afternoon in Amsterdam I was sitting
outside a cafe by a canal. The weather was superb

At another table, in shadow, was a man whistling
under his breath, sitting very still, almost rigid

At the side of the canal was a fisherman.
He caught a fish. He lifted it high

The waiter cheered and applauded, the two men,
the waiter and the fisherman, laughed

A little girl, passing, laughed.
Two lovers, passing, kissed

The fish was lofted, on the rod. The fish
and the rod glinted in the sun, as they swayed

The fisherman's cheeks were flushed with pleasure.
I decided to paint a picture...

...of the canal, the waiter, the child,
the fisherman, the lovers, the fish

And in background, in shadow, the man
at the other table, and to call it The Whistler

The Whistler. If you had seen the picture,
and the title, would the title have baffled you?

- Do you want to answer that question?

- No. Go on. You answer it

Well, speaking for myself,
I think I would have been baffled by that title

But I might have appreciated the picture.
I might even have been grateful for it

Did you hear what I said?
I might have been grateful for the picture

A good work of art tends to move me.
You follow me? I'm not a cunt, you know

I'm very interested to hear you're a painter

- You do it in your spare time, I suppose?
- Quite

- Did you ever paint that picture, The Whistler?
- Not yet, I'm afraid

Don't leave it too long.
You might lose the inspiration

Ever painted a beer mug?

You must come and see my collection,
any time you wish

What of, beer mugs?

- No, no. Paintings
- Where do you keep it?

At my house in the country.
You would receive the warmest of welcomes

- Who from?
- My wife. My two daughters

Really? Would they like me?
What do you think?

- Would they love me at first sight?
- Quite possibly

- What about him?
- They are remarkably gracious women

- You're a lucky man. What are you drinking?
- Scotch

What do you make of this?
When I was out East once...

...a kind of old stinking tramp,
bollock naked, asked me for a few bob

I didn't know him. He was a complete stranger.
But I could see immediately he wasn't a man to trust

He had a dog with him.
They only had about one eye between them

So I threw him some sort of coin.
He caught this bloody coin...

...looked at it with a bit of distaste,
and then he threw the coin back

Well, automatically I went to catch it, I clutched
at it, but the bloody coin disappeared into thin air

It didn't drop anywhere. It just disappeared
into thin air on its way towards me

He then let out a few curses
and pissed off, with his dog

Oh, here's your whisky, by the way.

What do you make of that incident?

- He was a con artist
- Do you think so?

You would be wise to grant the event
no integrity whatsoever

- You don't subscribe to the mystery of the Orient?
- A typical Eastern con trick

- Double Dutch, you mean?
- Certainly

Your good health

I can't sleep. I slept briefly. I think.
Perhaps it was sufficient

Yes. I woke up, out of a dream

I feel cheerful.
Who'll get me a glass of whisky?

My goodness, is this for me? How did you know?
You knew. You're very sensitive

Cheers. The first today

- What day is it? What's the time? ls it still night?
- Yes

The same night? I was dreaming of waterfalls.
No, no, of a lake

I think it was just recently

Can you remember when I went to bed?
Was it daylight?

It's good to go to sleep in the late afternoon.
After tea and toast

You near the faint beginnings of the evening sounds,
and then nothing

Everywhere else people are changing for dinner

You're tucked up, the shutters closed,
gaining a march on the world

Something is depressing me. What is it?
It was the dream, yes

Waterfalls. No, no, a lake.
Water. Drowning

Not me. Someone else

How nice to have company

Can you imagine waking up, finding no one here,
just furniture, staring at you? Most unpleasant

I've known that condition,
I've been through that period

Cheers. I came round to human beings in the end.
Like yourselves. A wise move

I tried laughing alone. Pathetic.
Have you all got drinks?

Who's that? A friend of yours?
Won't someone introduce me?

- He's a friend of yours
- In the past I knew remarkable people

I've a photograph album... somewhere.
I'll find it

You'll be impressed by the faces. Very handsome.
Sitting on grass with hampers

I had a moustache.
Quite a few of my friends had moustaches

Remarkable faces. Remarkable moustaches

What was it informed the scene?
A tenderness towards our fellows, perhaps

The sun shone. The girls had lovely hair,
dark, sometimes red

Under their dresses their bodies were white

It's all in my album. I'll find it.
You'll be struck by the charm of the girls

Their grace, the ease with which they sit,
pour tea, loll. It's all in my album

Who is the kindest among you?
Thank you

What would I do without the two of you? I'd sit here
forever, waiting for a stranger to fill up my glass

What would I do while I waited?

Look through my album?
Make plans for the future?

You'd crawl to the bottle
and stuff it between your teeth

No. I drink with dignity

- Who is this man? Do I know him?
- He says he's a friend of yours

My true friends look out at me from my album.
I had my world

I have it.
Don't think now that it's gone...

...That wi'll choose to sneer at it,
to cast doubt on it, to wonder if it properly existed

No. We are talking about my youth,
which can never leave me

It existed. It was solid,
the people in it were solid...

...while transformed by light,
while being sensitive to all the changing light

When I stood my shadow fell upon her.
She looked up

Give me the bottle.

Give me the bottle!

It's gone. Did it exist?
It's gone. It never existed

It remains

I am sitting here forever

How kind of you.
I wish you'd tell me what the weather's like

I wish you'd damn well tell me what night it is,
this night or the next night

Or the other one, the night before last.
Be frank. ls it the night before last?

Help yourselves. I hate drinking alone.
There's too much solitary shittery

What was it? Shadows.
Silence, through leaves

Sunlight. It was my dream. Yes.

Who was drowning in my dream?

It was blinding. Oh I remember it

Yes, I've forgotten

By all that's sacred and holy.
The sounds stopped. It was freezing

There's a gap in me. I can't fill it.
There's a flood running through me. I can't plug it

They're blotting me out. Who is doing it?
I'm suffocating

It's a muff. A muff, perfumed.
Someone is doing me to death

She looked up. I was staggered.
I had never seen anything so beautiful

That's all poison.
We can't be expected to live like that

I remember nothing.
I'm sitting in this room

I see you all, every one of you.
A sociable gathering. All the dispositions are kindly

Am I asleep?
There's no water. No one is drowning

Yes, yes, come on, come on,
pipe up, speak up, speak up

Speak up.
You're fucking me about, you bastards

Ghosts, long ghosts,
you're making noises, I can hear you humming

I wear a crisp blue shirt at the Ritz

I know him well, the wine waiter, Boris.
Boris, he's been there for years

- Blinding shadows, then a fall of water
- It was I drowning in your dream

Bugger off.

Unhand me

He has grandchildren. As have I. As I have.
We both have fathered. We are of an age

I know his wants. Let me take his arm

Respect our age

Come, I'll seat you

- There is no pity in these people
- Christ

I am your true friend.
That is why your dream was so distressing

You saw me drowning in your dream.
But have no fear

- I am not drowned
- Christ

Would you like me to make you some coffee?

- He thinks he's a waiter in Amsterdam
- Service non compris

Whereas he's a pintpot attendant in The Bull's Head.
And a pisspot attendant as well

Our host must have been in The Bull's Head tonight,
where he had an unfortunate encounter

Hey scout, I think there's been
some kind of misunderstanding

You're not in some shithouse
down by the docks

You're in the home of a man of means,
of a man of achievement. Do you understand me?

Why am I bothering? Tell me. Eh?
Listen chummybum

We protect this gentleman against corruption,
against men of craft, against men of evil

We could destroy you without a glance,
we take care of this gentleman, we do it out of love

Why am I talking to him?
I'm wasting my time with a nonstarter

I must be going mad. I don't usually talk.
I don't have to. Normally I keep quiet

I know what it is.
There's something about you fascinates me

- It's my bearing
- That's what it must be

I've seen an Irishman chop his balls off

I suppose once you've had Irishmen
you've had everything

Listen. Keep it tidy. You follow? You've just
laid your hands on a rich and powerful man

It's not what you're used to, scout.
How can I make it clear?

This is another class. It's another realm of operation.
It's a world of silk. It's a world of organdie

It's a world of flower arrangements.
It's a world of eighteenth-century cookery books

It's nothing to do with toffee apples
and a packet of crisps.

It's milk in the bath. It's the cloth bellpull.
It's organisation

- It's not rubbish
- It's not rubbish. We deal in originals

Nothing duff, nothing ersatz,
we don't open any old bottle of brandy

Mind you don't fall into a quicksand

Why don't I kick his head off and have done with it?

I am the same age as your master. I used to picnic
in the country too, at the same time as he

Listen, my friend. This man in this chair,
he's a creative man. He's an artist

We make life possible for him.
We're in a position of trust

Don't try to drive a wedge
into a happy household

You understand me?
Don't try to make a nonsense out of family life

If you can't, I can.
Come here

Where are the sandwiches?
Cut the bread

- It's cut
- It is not cut. Cut it

I'll go and cut it

I know you from somewhere

I must clean the house.
No one else will do it

Your financial adviser is coming to breakfast

I've got to think about that.
His taste changes from day to day

One day he wants boiled eggs and toast,
the next day orange juice and poached eggs

The next scrambled eggs and smoked salmon,
the next a mushroom omelette and champagne

Any minute now it'll be dawn.
A new day

Your financial adviser's dreaming of his breakfast.
He's dreaming of eggs. Eggs, eggs. What kind of eggs?

I'm egg-xhausted. I've been up all night.
But it never stops. Nothing stops

It's all fizz. This is my life.
I have my brief arousals. They leave me panting

I can't take the pace in London.
Nobody knows what I miss

I miss the Siamese girls.
I miss the girls in Bali

You don't come across them over here. You see them
occasionally, on the steps of language schools

They're learning English, they're not prepared
to have a giggle and a cuddle in their own language

Not in Regent Street.
A giggle and a cuddle

Sometimes my ambitions
extend no further than that.

I could do something else.
I could make another life

I don't have to waste my time
looking after a pisshound

I could find the right niche and be happy.
The right niche, the right happiness

We're out of bread.
I'm looking at the housekeeper

Neurotic poof. He prefers idleness. Unspeakable ponce.
He prefers the Malay Straits...

...where they give you hot toddy in a fourposter.
He's nothing but a vagabond cock

Move over.
Get up

Keep on the move. Don't look back

I know that man

Do you know what I saw once in the desert,
in the Australian desert?

A man walking along carrying two umbrellas

Two umbrellas. In the outback

- Was it raining?
- No. It was a beautiful day

I nearly asked him what he was up to
but I changed my mind

- Why?
- Well, I decided he must be some kind of lunatic

I thought he would only confuse me

Listen. You know what it's like
when you're in a room with the light on...

...and then suddenly the light goes out?
I'll show you

It's like this