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 . . .