TALES OF OLD DARTMOOR
GOON SHOW TLO 972286TH SERIES: NO 21
BROADCAST: 7 Feb 1956
Script by Spike Milligan[1]
GREENSLADE: This is the BBC Home Service, and here is a photograph of
me saying it.
SEAGOON: Thank
you Friese-Greene, or – as he came out of an icebox, deep-freeze Greene.[2]
GREENSLADE: I
don't wish to know that.
SEAGOON: Stop
those carefully rehearsed ad-written ad-libs and proceed with your task of
announcing radio's answer to TV.
SELLERS: (Venerable) Namely the original
lantern-slide type wireless Goon Show.
ORCHESTRA: Thin
chord. Cymbal snap.
SEAGOON: Try
and get that on a long player. All right – so much for melody! And now,
segregate the sinful sexes…
SELLERS: Wait!
How many sexes are there?
SEAGOON: Two.
SELLERS: It's
not enough I say! Go out and order some more.
SEAGOON: Mister
Sellers, throw away that fur-lined chin strap and make a statement.
SELLERS: What
is a jail break?
MILLIGAN:
Answer: A brake used for stopping jails.
FX: Pistol shot. Body falls to ground.
SEAGOON:
Wrong. A jail break has nothing to do with tonight's story, which is entitled –
“Tales of Old Dartmoor".
ORCHESTRA: Police
Detective introduction.
GREENSLADE:
This is the story of a desperate man in prison.
SEAGOON: Yes,
it was I. I was the governor. Question: Why was I desperate?
MILLIGAN:
Answer: Because your record hasn't reached the hit parade.[3]
FX: Pistol shot. Body to floor.
SEAGOON: Wrong!
I was desperate for a very different reason.
FX: Telephone rings: handset up.
SEAGOON:
Hello, prison governor here.
SUPERINTENDENT:[4] (On phone) Oh yes,
this is the superintendent of county jails. We're stock-taking.
SEAGOON: Oh really?
How jolly for you.
SUPERINTENDENT:
How many convicts have you got in?
SEAGOON: Well,
let me see now – there's Jim the ‘crazy vicar’... Oh, no no! He escaped.
There's ‘meat-axe’ George... Oh, no no no no no! He bought himself out. Then
there's that confidence trickster... No, he became an MP. Hmm – number three-four-one-two-eight
was released, Fred was transferred... You know, (laughs) ha ha! – I do believe we've run completely out of them.
SUPERINTENDENT:
Do you know what this means, Seagoon?
SEAGOON: Yes –
we're empty.
SUPERINTENDENT:
Empty?! By the way Seagoon, are you standing at attention?
SEAGOON: Yes.
SUPERINTENDENT:
Good. Now look here Seagoon, you can't walk around with an empty prison. Your
job will be in jeopardy.
SEAGOON: In Jeopardy?
I don't want to go abroad!
SUPERINTENDENT:
Seagoon, I'm giving you a warning – get that prison filled with convicts or
you're fired, underlined fired!
FX: Phone down.
SEAGOON: It's
all very well for him to talk, but nobody's committing any crimes. Here I am
working my fingers to the bone, sweeping out empty cells, oiling unused locks,
polishing handcuffs and giving transfusions to blood hounds, and never a word
of thanks.[5] Where can I get convicts?
MILLIGAN: (Chicken squawk.) Bwa-ark,
bwark-bwark-bwark-bwark, bwa-ark, bwark-bwark-bwark-bwark.
SEAGOON: It's
the front door. (Calls) Coming!!!
I'll be there in a moment… (self fade)
Don't get broody.
FX: Chains clanking. Heavy metal doors unbolted.
GRYTPYPE: May
I come in?
SEAGOON: Have
you committed any crime?.
GRYTPYPE: I'm
afraid not.
SEAGOON: Then
you can't come in.
GRYTPYPE: Take
off your hat... Now!
FX: Blackjack on punching bag.
SEAGOON: (In pain) OWWOOOWW OW OW OWOWOOWO! Come
in.
GRYTPYPE: Come
in Moriarty.
MORIARTY:
Ououooiiuiuou.
FX: Metal door being shut.
GRYTPYPE:
Allow us to introduce ourselves. My card.
SEAGOON: But
it's blank.
GRYTPYPE:
Business is bad.
SEAGOON:
That's funny – so's mine. I haven't got a convict in the place.
GRYTPYPE:
Perhaps we can help you Neddie (for a consideration.) Moriarty, explain the plan.
MORIARTY: Ah,
certainment. Oouioiuuuoiu! Listen, we will guarantee you a constant supply of
convicts at our reduced summer rate of three shillings per head per day.
SEAGOON: Three
shillings ehi?
MORIARTY: Yes.
SEAGOON: (Aside) The government give me five,
that leaves two, take away the convicts you first thought of... (laughs) Ha ha ha ha... (Aloud) You're on! When do they come in?
GRYTPYPE: Open
that door!
FX: Door opens smartly.
GRAMS: Men’s
chorus singing Marching Song. Boots underneath. Speed it up slightly.
If I had the wings of a crow
O’er these prison walls I would fly.
I’d fly to…&c (Fade under.)[6]
GRYTPYPE: There you are Neddie – eleven hundred and eighty-two of
them.
SEAGOON:
Wonderful! Who said
MORIARTY:
Where's the mess hall?
SEAGOON: Here.
GRAMS: Sudden
hubbub of men’s voices. Fade behind.
MORIARTY: Right! Address them.
SEAGOON: Very
well, I will. (Loudly) MEN, LADIES AND
GENTLEMEN – IT IS INDEED A GREAT PLEASURE TO WELCOME YOU TO
MILLIGAN: (Distant raspberry) Pht!
SEAGOON: Thank you! YOU WILL FIND WE HAVE A GREAT TRADITION HERE,
AND I DON’T WANT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU TO FEEL YOU’RE NOT WANTED.
MORIARTY: What
do you mean they're not wanted? These men are wanted everywhere.
SEAGOON: (
MORIARTY: The
police.
SEAGOON: Well
they're safe here.
MORIARTY:
Good.
SEAGOON: (Loudly) ALRIGHT MEN, OFF TO YOUR CELLS
NOW. DON’T FORGET “LISTEN WITH MOTHER” AT TWO-THIRTY.[7]
THROAT: Hooray!
GRAMS: Hubbub
of voices.
GREENSLADE:
Yes, once again
SEAGOON: Yes,
and as governor I was receiving congratulations from every corner of the
circular globe. Look at this telegram here: "Good luck Seagoon. A full
prison is a happy one. Signed, Home Secretary". And this here: "Good
work Seagoon. Please find enclosed three OBEs. Try and get shot of the other
two.[8] Signed, Minister of OBEs. P.S. How would you like to be a
peer?" Yes. Yes! I'll be a Peer. (Calls)
Moriarty?
MORIARTY: Yes?
SEAGOON: I've
just made myself a Peer.
MORIARTY:
Good, I'll get down the end of it and start a concert party.[9]
GRAMS: Single
whoosh.
SEAGOON: Come back here! It's not that kind of peer.
MORIARTY: (Distant) What?
SEAGOON: P
double E – R, not P – I – E – R.
GRAMS: Body
into water.
MORIARTY: (Distant) Oh! – you swine!
SEAGOON: Good
heavens! – he's fallen in the wet-type water.
GRYTPYPE: Yes,
you're a very short Peer, Neddie. In fact hardly room for even a Max Geldray-type
Max Geldray to play his nylon dog cardigan and plastic mule rest.[10]
MAX
GELDRAY –
“Who’s Sorry Now” [11]
GREENSLADE:
That was Mister Max Geldray – and if I were he, I wouldn't let it generally be
known.
MILLIGAN: (Raspberry)
Pppht!
GREENSLADE: And now – ‘Tales of Old Dartmoor' part two.
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic
link.
FX: Quill pen on paper.
SEAGOON: Entry
in prison diary. January twenty second – convict Eccles fell into a bucket of
wet cement and looks like becoming a hardened criminal. Hup!
ORCHESTRA: Corny
chord.
SEAGOON: Thank
you! Thank YOU! Second entry – convict Grytpype-Thynne made a strange request
today.
GRYTPYPE:
Neddie, do you mind if I sit down?
SEAGOON: Pull
up a bollard and sit down.[12]
GRYTPYPE:
Thank you.
SEAGOON: Make
yourself at home.
GRYTPYPE:
Neddie?
SEAGOON: Treat
the cell as your own.
GRYTPYPE: I
will – I will.
SEAGOON:
Needle nardle noo.
GRYTPYPE: Have
you any more brandy?
SEAGOON: All
gone.
GRYTPYPE:
Sorry. Do you mind if I have a strange request? It's this – I really want... (Stage
whisper) &c
SEAGOON: Of
course. I'll do it at once!
FX: Keys jangling. Chains. Lock being opened.
Bolt being drawn back. Cell door opening.
GRAMS: Pair of boots walking smartly into the
distance.
FX: Lock opening. Door opening and closing.
(Short silence)
FX: Door opening and closing.
GRAMS: Pair of boots returning.
FX: Lock being opened. Bolt being drawn back.
Cell door being opened.
SEAGOON: What
was it you asked for?
GRYTPYPE:
Never mind. I'll smoke one of my own. Now Neddie, the prisoners are getting
restless.
SEAGOON: What-what-what-what-what?!
They had Sabrina for the cabaret last night. I mean…[13]
GRYTPYPE: Yes
I know, culture's all very well Neddie, but what the lads really need is a
holiday.
SEAGOON:
MORIARTY: Well,
well, well – I've er… I’ve spoken to the lads and they all had their hearts set
on the south of
SEAGOON: But I
can't let them out of prison.
GRYTPYPE:
'Course not Neddie. We'll take the prison with us.
SEAGOON: But,
you can't move the prison. People will talk!
GRYTPYPE:
Neddie, we're going to leave a cardboard replica. [14]
SEAGOON: Oh, I
see, yes. Ah but wait a minute -- where are we going to stay in
GRYTPYPE: I've
made arrangements with one of the French governments for our prison to be the
guest of the Chateau d'If, the historic Gaelic penitentiary. [15]
SEAGOON: Well,
I must say it all sounds very attractive indeed.
GRYTPYPE: Yes.
SEAGOON: I'll
agree to it!
GRYTPYPE:
Good! Then unchain our visas and we'll all be off.
MORIARTY: (Teamster) Get up there! Get up there!
FX: Whip.
GRAMS: Enormous dray on cobbled surface. Carthorse
hooves, wheels etc. Continue under.
SEAGOON: It
was a wonderful experience to be jogging along the Queen's highway in one of
her Majesty's prisons on this fine morning. (Calls)
Get up there!
(sings) A gypsy am I,
I travel the road,
who cares?
(becoming hysterical) The lark in the sky
to bid you goodbye.
I travel the road,
alone! [16]
GRYTPYPE: You silly twisted governor you.
ORCHESTRA: French
link.
SEAGOON: Entry
in prison diary. February the second – at sea.
MILLIGAN: (Distant mal-de-mer)
GRAMS: Ocean sounds.
SEAGOON: Coast of
BLOODNOK: Oh,
good morning Captain Seagoon.
SEAGOON: Good
morn… Wait a minute! You are not one of my convicts.
BLOODNOK: No,
no, no. I'm a stowaway.
SEAGOON: Well,
you'll have to get off. You'll have to get off! (Calls out) STOP THE PRISON!!
FX: Ships bell signals ‘coming around’.
SEAGOON: ON
YOUR LEFT SIDE NOW! STOP! STOP! STOP THE PRISON! &c
BLOODNOK: No,
no! Look, don't stop it just for me. I'm not complaining, old man.
SEAGOON:
That's not the point! That's not the point, sir! We're full up. Look here, we’re
full up. We've a maximum complement of convicts – two thousand one hundred and
eighty-three.
BLOODNOK: What
what what what what? Two thousand one hundred and eighty two if you don't mind.
One was drowned this morning.
SEAGOON:
Drowned? How?
BLOODNOK: Poor
lad, he tried to tunnel his way out.
SEAGOON: Fool.
Very well, you can have his cell. That will be three shillings please.
FX: Cash register.
BLOODNOK:
There you are, three shillings in kosher margarine.
SEAGOON: Good.
I'll spread it on my chequebook at once. (Aside)
I wonder why this man wants to join our prison.
BLOODNOK: (aside) Little does he know that I have
reason to believe that the Chateau d'If contains the clue to the treasure of
the Count of Monte Cristo.
MORIARTY:
Finished?
BLOODNOK: Yes.
MORIARTY:
Right. (Aside) Little does Bloodnok
know that I also know that the Chateau D'If contains the clue to a treasure.
GRYTPYPE: Do
you mind?
MORIARTY: Yes.
GRYTPYPE:
Thank you. (Aside) Little do either
of these Charlies know that I've planned this whole move to bring down our
prison and bring it into direct contact with the Chateau D'If precisely to
obtain the clue to the aforementioned treasure. Little do they know.
SEAGOON:
Finished?
GRYTPYPE: Yes.
SEAGOON: (Aside) Great heavily whispered asides!
Little do they know how little I know about the little that they know. If only
I knew what the little that they know, I'd know a little. I'll have to keep my
little ears open you know. Ahem. End of long, boring aside.
ECCLES: (Distant) HO! LAND AHEAD!
GRAMS: Ships
colliding, enormous splashes.
ECCLES: I should
have said that sooner, shouldn't I?
GREENSLADE:[17] Ahh, messieurs les prisonniers Anglais – soyez le bienvenu. Welcome
to the Chateau d'If.
SEAGOON: Ah
what an honour! It is none other than Wallace Greenslade playing the part of
the French prefect of police – and playing it very badly!
GREENSLADE: (Tears) Don't… don't give me away. It
was this or making tea for John Snagg. [18]
SEAGOON: Thank
you and good bye. And so began a happy day at the Chateau d'If. By evening each
convict had dismantled his old cell, carried the bricks into the Chateau,
wrapped in brown paper and labelled accordingly, donned the traditional French
convict's red white and blue trousers, and waltzed the whole night though!
GRAMS: Piano
accordion waltz. Continue under.
FX: Chains clanking behind.
GRYTPYPE:
Neddie, you look divine. Might I have the next dance?
SEAGOON: I'm
sorry I promised it to nine-two-four, three-seven-eight.
GRYTPYPE: Oh, but
he's in solitary.
SEAGOON: Then
he'll have to dance by himself.
GRYTPYPE: (Laughs) Ah ha ha ha!
MILLIGAN: (Approaching) Ah, good evening Mister Governor.
SEAGOON: 'Allo
mate.
MILLIGAN: What!
The prisoners want the band to play a special request.
SEAGOON: What?
MILLIGAN:
“Unchained melody”. [19]
SEAGOON:
Right! Convict Ellington, release your pianist and play those chains.
RAY
ELLINGTON QUARTET – “Love
is the Tender Trap” [20]
ORCHESTRA: Dramatic
link.
GREENSLADE: ‘Tales
of Old Dartmoor’, part three. That night, in the deepest dungeon of the Chateau
d'If, two figures are at work.
FX: Hammer and chisel on stone.
MORIARTY: (Effort) Huh… ho… huh… (&c)
FX: Chisel falls.
MORIARTY: Oh, dropped it. Sapristi look, here it is. A black box. The
box noir!
GRYTPYPE: Yes.
Lift it out and unroll it.
MORIARTY: (Effort) Urgh!...
FX: Heavy box on floor.
GRYTPYPE: Oh!
Just as I anticipated.
MORIARTY:
What?
GRYTPYPE: I
don't know what it is.
MORIARTY:
Wait! It's an old long playing wax cylinder gramophone record.
GRYTPYPE: Then
play it!
MORIARTY: But
there's no gramophone.
GRYTPYPE: Well
we must dig for one.
MORIARTY:
Right.
FX: Digging sounds.
BOTH: (Effort) Urgh… huh… &c
MORIARTY: AH! Got it.
GRYTPYPE: Put
it on.
MORIARTY: (Effort) Huh! It doesn't fit me at all.
GRYTPYPE: Then
play it.
MORIARTY: Very
well. Here goes...
GRAMS: Hiss
of needle on old gramophone record under.
(Pre-recording)
GREENSLADE: “This record is a clue to the treasure of Monte Cristo. Go to the prison
yard where you will find wrapped up in brown paper parcels, another prison.
Re-assemble it and you will find the treasure buried under the floor of cell
number six-two-six in the basement.” [21]
GRYTPYPE: Good!
MORIARTY:
Sapristi!
GRYTPYPE: Come
on Moriarty and we'll get…
FX: Door opens suddenly.
SEAGOON:
Grytpype – dreadful news!
GRYTPYPE:
What?
SEAGOON: Our
holiday is over and somebody’s stolen all the bricks of our prison! What's
more, it was to have sailed home tomorrow with the tide.
MORIARTY: Ohr-hoihoihoihoi!
We're homeless!
GRYTPYPE: Yes,
and somebody's found out about the treasure.
SEAGOON: Come
on now, who's hiding our prison? (Calls
out) Hands up all those who know anything about this.
(Short pause)
BLUEBOTTLE: Me
and Eccles know where it's gone, captain.
ECCLES: Yeah, they
know.
SEAGOON:
Splendid, lads. Tell me where it is and I'll reduce your sentence from two
years to four.
BLUEBOTTLE:
Well it – um… went – um... (Close) Thinks,
“Where did it went?” (Aloud) It
wented – um... Eccles?
ECCLES: Yeah?
BLUEBOTTLE: Do
you remember Eccles?
ECCLES: Oh yeah,
I remember Eccles.
BLUEBOTTLE:
Well, does he know where it wented?
ECCLES: I'll
ask him. Ha hum. Do you know where it wented?
(Short pause)
BLUEBOTTLE:
What does he say, Eccles?
ECCLES: He
hasn't answered yet. I think he's out.
SEAGOON: CURSE!
What bad luck.
BLUEBOTTLE:
What bad luck.
ECCLES: What
bad luck!
SEAGOON: Yes,
what bad luck. Shut up Eccles!
ECCLES: Shut
up Eccles!
BLUEBOTTLE:
Shut up Eccles!
CAST: (Extended “shut ups”.)
SEAGOON: We
can't wait for him to come back. We'll have to give chase in the Chateau d'If. (Shouts) All hands on deck! Cast off!
Full speed ahead!
CAST: (Stage murmurs – “rhubarb” &c Continue
over.)
FX: Ships bell.
GRAMS: Windlass turning.
SEAGOON: And
Eccles…
ECCLES: Yes?
SEAGOON: Shut
up!
ECCLES: Shut
up!
BLUEBOTTLE: Shut up!
ECCLES: Shut
up!
SEAGOON: Pin a
message to the rock saying we've only borrowed the Chateau temporarily.
ECCLES: I
thought it was the Chateau d'If.
SEAGOON: No,
it's the Chateau Temporarily. We're in disguise.
ECCLES: O-ooh.
SEAGOON:
Mister Christian…
THROAT: Yes?
SEAGOON: …
issue cheese to all hands, cast davits[22] to the wind and unlatch the keel!
MASTERS MATE:[23] (Ship call) Bernard
Miles sirrah!
ORCHESTRA: Majestic
naval link.
GRAMS: Ocean
sounds - waves, seagulls, creaking of timbers.
SEAGOON: Log of
the French prison Chateau d'If. At sea.
MILLIGAN: (Distant mal-de-mer)
SEAGOON: No sign yet of Her Majesty's prison
FX: Bosun’s whistle.
FORETOPMAN:[24] (Distant) Prison on
the starboard bow-ah!
SEAGOON: Gad!
– it might be the
MORIARTY:
Sapristi yes! Look at that flag – it's flying the skull and crossbone.
SEAGOON:
Wrong. It's a photograph of David Nixon with his arms folded! [25]
MASTERS MATE: (Calls) Captain, he's heaving-to.
SEAGOON: Well,
don't stand there! Heave two back at him.
GRAMS: Canon
firing.
SEAGOON: He's
opened fire. Duck!
MORIARTY: Why?
SEAGOON: There's a cannonball coming.
MORIARTY:
Right. I'll see you ‘after the ball is over.’[26]
GRAMS: Enormous
explosion.
SEAGOON: OOOOOH,
OOOH-OOOHA! (Stricken.) OHAOOO! I've been stricken. Grytpype, call the doctor.
GRYTPYPE: Not
likely. I'm next in line for Admiral.
SEAGOON: Wait!
This… this isn't blood…
MORIARTY: What
is it?
SEAGOON: It's
custard. The swine! – he's fired Christmas puddings.
GRYTPYPE: Yes.
You know what this means, Neddie – it's the twenty-fifth of December.
SEAGOON:
Really?
GRYTPYPE: Yes.
SEAGOON: Merry
Christmas.
GRYTPYPE:
Thank you.
SEAGOON: Gad,
I'll teach them to fire the afters before we've fired the main course. (Calls out) Men, load all guns with
roast turkey with the parson's nose outwards.
MORIARTY:
Sapristi! – you devil, with the parson's nose outwards?! If you hit him with
those he'll go to the bottom.[27]
SEAGOON: FIRE!
GRAMS: Naval
broadside. Cannonballs into water.
SEAGOON: Dash
it! – missed. Load another salvo of turkeys...
MORIARTY: Aye
aye!
SEAGOON: … this
time with bread sauce.
GRYTPYPE: No.
I’ve a better idea. (Calls) Eccles?
ECCLES: Shut
up Eccles!
GRYTPYPE: I
haven't said it yet. Eccles, put that big iron ball you’ve chained to your leg
into that cannon.
ECCLES: Ok.
FX: Chain clanking. Heavy iron ball dropped.
ECCLES: Right.
GRYTPYPE:
FIRE!
GRAMS: Salvo of cannon.
FX: Chain playing out.
ECCLES: Oh yep
– there it goes with the ch… (Yanked) GWK!
SEAGOON: (Distant) Eccles, come back! After him –
he's deserting!
GREENSLADE:
Meanwhile, aboard Her Majesty's prison
BLOODNOK:
Ohohhoh! They're gaining on us. Curse these French frog-eating prisons! Much
speedier than ours, I say.
GRAMS: Enormous
explosion.
BLOODNOK: Ohhh!
Struck by a…
ECCLES: Hallo!
BLOODNOK:
Convict Eccles, just the man I'm looking for. I want you to take a message to
the Chateau d'If. Tell them I shall never surrender.
ECCLES: But
they're two miles away. I can't swim all that way.
BLOODNOK:
Never you mind. Get in here.
ECCLES: Right.
BLOODNOK: (Calls) FIRE!
GRAMS: Cannon
fires.
BLOODNOK:
There he goes! Let that be a lesson to them – they can't get rid of their
surplus idiots on me you know. Great Scott! They're closing in! (Calls out) Stand by to repel boarders!
MILLIGAN: (Distant) How do you repel boarders?
BLOODNOK: Stop
changing the bed linen! Look out – they're coming alongside.
SEAGOON: (Distant) Right men, cutlasses out!
Board her!
GRAMS: Rifle fire. Shouting. Sword fighting.
OMNES: (Various shouts and
cries – “Rhubarb” & “Custard” &c)
GRYTPYPE: Come
on Moriarty. While they're all occupied let's go down and get the treasure. Now
remember it's under the floor of cell number six-two-six. Quick, down these stairs.
GRAMS: Double
whoosh – single bullet ricocheting.
GRYTPYPE: (Panting) Here it is! – cell six-two-six.
MORIARTY: Yes.
Sapristi nabolas! – whatever’s under this floor is all ours. Together…
BOTH: …lift! (Effort) Uhh!
FX: Flagstone clunks.
GRAMS: Ocean
against hull of ship.
MORIARTY: It's
water! Salt water.
GRYTPYPE: Let
me taste it. (Tasting) You're right!
– it's the
MORIARTY:
We're rich! We're rich! Look, there's more of it there! Look! It's all coming
in…
GRAMS: Swell
sound of ocean.
GRYTPYPE: (Panicking) Stop you fool, we're
sinking! HELLLP!
MORIARTY: (Self fade) HELLLP!
ORCHESTRA: Orchestral
climax..
GREENSLADE:
And that, dear listeners is why the
ORCHESTRA: End
theme.
GREENSLADE:
That was the Goon Show, a BBC recorded programme featuring Peter Sellers, Harry
Secombe and Spike Milligan with the Ray Ellington Quartet and Max Geldray. The
orchestra was conducted by Bruce Campbell, script by Spike Milligan, announcer
Wallace Greenslade, the programme produced by Peter Eaton.
ORCHESTRA: Playout. [28]
YTI 