Our production of "Edward II" was a sensation, initially
at the Edinburgh International Festival, where a local councillor was appalled
by the sight of my French-kissing another man on the Scottish stage. The
next evening on the front row sat two investigating policeman in uniform.
They sat with their knees wide open, until Edward's painful death, when
in sympathy they crossed their manly legs tight against any intrusion.
At the end of the show, they started the standing ovation - and that's
the last we heard of any censorship. When the production reached the West
End of London, it seemed every famous closeted queer in town wanted to
visit me backstage: and I had the joy one evening of introducing Sir Noël
Coward to Rudolf Nureyev, as if they hadn't met many times before . . .