W Stephen Gilbert writes: My best pal Tony and I played Faustus and Mephistopheles respectively in our school production of Marlowe's play, so when, shortly afterwards, the Oxford University Drama Society announced its great coup in securing former member Richard Burton to play Faustus in an otherwise student production, we naturally booked seats. The pivotal moment when Helen of Troy walks across the stage is always a directorial headache. The most recent Stratford revival had opted for a totally naked Helen, still a sensational gambit in the 1960s. Our director had cast the prettiest boy in the (all-male) school.
OUDS, with its star's help, was able to summon real magic in having Burton's wife appear as the legendary beauty. Imagine: the first stage appearance anywhere in the world of Elizabeth Taylor (obituary, 24 March). And – surely unprecedented on any occasion – she never uttered a word.
On the day of the performance for which we had booked, Tony and I sloped along to the Randolph for an appetiser. As we got to the entrance, a limo drew up and out stepped the Burtons. We duly followed them into the hotel. While her moment as Helen was heart-stopping, it is the memory of Miss Taylor's derrière, encased in figure-hugging canary-yellow slacks, that will stay with me most vividly.