The following transcript was made by Debby Stark (email@example.com [as of Oct, 1994]),
fixed adobe abode in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Corrections and particularly additions of
material will be welcomed. Errors made in transcription are probably the fault of the
but may also be due to the quality of the tape, and my copy of this isn't very good...
note: some notes are found in . If word/phrase not understood it may be designated [?]
surrounded by brackets with a "?".
The Silver Dubloons
First air: 21-1-60
Script: Spike Milligan
Greenslade: This is the BBC, and the color is cream.
Secombe: Ah, yes, Wal, the modern cream BBC! I remember the old days when it was
Voices: Brown! Brown! Brown
Greenslade: Yes, the old brown BBC! Happy days...
Sellers: Brown is better, it doesn't show the dirt.
Secombe: Not in this show it doesn't, mate! [laughs] Back to your car, Sellers!
Voices: I say...
FX: Car sounds, honking
Secombe: And now folks of the world, here with a special goatskin microphone
Greenslade: Ladies and gentlemen,
Greenslade: the brown BBC presetns the Son of Fun, that old Welsh favorite: Ned, the
FX: cheering, singing
Seagoon: Stop! Stop!
FX: stops immediately
Seagoon: Thank you, fellow Welshmen.
Voice: Hello, Ned of Wales!
Segoon: It's Milligan of Poona!
Milligan: Ned of Wales, how's that old Welsh [married? money?] [inaudible]
Seagoon: Me and the little woman are very happy, indeed, aren't we, love?
Little Woman: [fast voicel my darling, [inaudiblel]
Voice: Tell me, what's the little woman's name?
Seagoon: Ha-ha, hey, I call her simply.
FX: whistle and pop
Jim: What a tune that would make!
FX: horn plays pop goes the weasle
Jim: [inaudible] next dance please?
Voice: Next dance, please.
Greenslade: Stop, I say, halt! Hold hard! Withhold, decease!
Seagoon: Put your head on this anvil!
FX: Hammer hits metal.
Seagoon: There we are. Let's see your old nut. Good havens, yes! Lumps suit you!
Sellers: Yes, lumps. Ladies, do your husbands come home late? Then use
FX: Hammer hits metal. High-pitched scream.
Sellers: lumps. Next time you're at your ironmonger, just open your mouth and say...
Voice: Yes, I'm grateful to lumps. I had a hat that came down over my eyes, then one night
FX: Hammer hits metal. High-pitched scream.
Voice: Now, thanks to lumps, I have a clear view all the way round...
Greenslade: Now, a word from our sponsor.
Greenslade: Next week, another word.
Sellers: Tonight, tonight, by the magic of hack writing and worn cliches, we drag you have
across an hour to [inaudible] down and [gibberish]. Introducing the new brown BBC
let the author tell you in his words.
Voice: Those were his own words. Ned of Wales, read the inscription on this crippled mango
Seagoon: Hello folks of the world! Hello folks of the world! This is Ned of Wales calling!
[laughs] Ned of Wales speaking in the new goatskin microphone, folks! The scene is 19
and hun, a lonely Sussex fishing village Cornwall!
Voice: [pirate-like] [inaudible] Oh, the Brown Cave[?] we call it. Tis somewhere in the
overlooking the sea, my little beauty, har-har! The old smuggler's cave is right there. On
night they do say a ghostly voice - ghostly voice, ahhh! [inaudible] the smell of ghostly
[laughs] Excuse me, I've got to get back to my mates [inaudible] you know.
FX: music, with underwater overtones
Moriarty: Quel delicious, quel delicious!
Thynne: What is that excruciating brew you're sipping with that boot, Moriarty?
Moriarty: Ohh! Taste! Taste!
Thynne: Gad, what is it?
Moriarty: Your laundry! It's fata-yala-socks supreme!
Thynne: Gad, we Engish have never had it so good! Say, what's for afters?
Moriarty: She hasn't arrived yet.
Seagoon: [distantly] Hello! In the absence of the door - knock knock!
Thynne: In the absence of a footman, come in!
Moriarty: In the absence of a roof, hold this umbrella!
Seagoon: Thank you, lad! Or, if you're French, Yakabakabo!
Voices: [several versions of] Yakabakabo!
Moriarty: Wait, wait, wait.
Thynne: You're Neddy Seagoon, the famous size.
Seagoon: All right, all right, I tell you, I'm slimming! My pot belly [stays on?] I mean,
[inaudible] I can still touch my toes!
FX: cloth ripping
Seagoon: Let me tell you who I am. Ladies and gentlemen, I am... Ned Seagoon! Seagoon
the Elephant Man.
Thynne: Ah, you, you train elephants?
Seagoon: No, they just call me "Seagoon the Elephant Man." Watch this!
Moriarty: Stand back.
FX: drum roll, Seagoon shouting acrobatically.
Thynne: Splendid, Neddy, I didn't know you played the drums! You see...
Thynne: this mess of rag stooping over that fuming pot? None other than the great
Moriarty, trapeeze artist extraordinaire.
Seagoon: Him? A trapeeze artist?
Thynne: Yes! Moriarty, get the trapeeze.
Moriarty: No, no, I, I... I haven't got the time.
Seagoon: Look, I only came here to borrow a shovel. A-hem, I heard that during the
Armada, a Spanish galleon went down off Brown Cove and at low tide you can dig for silver
Moriarty: You what? [screams variously]
Thynne: That was the new sterophonic Moriarty
Seagoon: Is he ill?
Thynne: No, but for a fee it could be arranged. For ú100 he will contract Lurgee. At
present the poor [clutz?] is suffering from the Irish [crux?]. Here is a report on his
Seagoon: This is a bank overdaft the statement.
Thynne: Yes, a terrible disease.
Seagoon: What's the cure?
Thynne: Alas, we've run short of the opiate that will restore the roses to his knees. All
can save him, I fear - the Groan, Moriarty.
Thynne: His only hope is a fabled spoonful of silver dubloons, three times a day, forced
down his unwilling wallet. I fear he'll be dead by sun up, I tell you.
Seagoon: No, no, now, wait, wait, wait, wait, I, I can try!
Thynne: Here, then, take this tax-free shovel inscribed Charlie and dig, Neddy. If you
a few dubloons then the ailing son of the Count[?] of France will give untold riches to
Seagoon: Yes, yes, yes, yes [laughs] I'll get a French OBE and a Parisian [north?
inaudible]'s tie. Don't worry, I'll get the dubloons!
Greenslade: That traditional BBC wosh terminates part 1. We will now unpack Mr. Max
Geldray's nose and let him feel the full benefit of it.
Voice: Oh, boy, look! I've got that old Dutch [inaudible]! Am I going to have fun!
Max Geldray plays
Greenslade: Part Onge. The Spanish Dubloons.
Greenslade: By the way, that "ole" was my own idea, I'm not entirely without
Seagoon: Ah, oh! Oh that [inaudible] I've been digging up dubloons for three weeks to
save the French prince. The weather was bitter cold and the snow lay three feet at my
Greenslade: Now a phone call in blue.
Seagoon: Ah, the old-fashioned hand-cranked see-through phone. Hello! Hello!
Thynne: Hello, Ned of Wales, Thynne of Paris speaking. You've heard of Paris...
Seagoon: What does it sound like?
Seagoon: Sounds foreign to me.
Thynne: It's a French phone, Neddy. Ned, we want you to send the next load of silver
dubloons care of the Yumka Hotel, Paris.
Seagoon: Yumka? How do you spell it?
Seagoon: Right. I must say I'm worn down to [an?] 18-stone [shadow?] by digging, you
Moriarty: You ungrateful 18-stone shadow--
Thynne: Ned, look... where do you live?
Seagoon: The basement of Bloodnok's military flats.
Thynne: Right. You go home and I'll arrange a holiday with tax-free legs and... certain
FX: Major-style music. Simplteon playing piano throughout following exchange.
Minnie: Henry? Henry!
Henry: Dear, dear. What is it, Min?
Minnie: Is that you playing that... pianola?
Henry: No, Min, no...
Minnie: [babbles] the piano, ah...
Henry: It's not me, it's the piano tuner
Minnie: Oh... Oh! What's that tune he's paying?
Henry: Pardon me, Mr. [Prune?], what is that tune you're playing?
Tuner: The note of E flat.
Henry: It's called the--
Minnie: [inaudible] What's it called?
Henry: It's called "The Note in E Flat," Min.
Minnie: It ought to be a hit with that title. Ah! Oh! Is that you, Henry?
Henry: No, no...
Minnie: Hey, [inaudible]
Henry: What? What's that? That is the piano, Min.
Henry: It's got wool on to keep a tune warm.
Ninnie: I thought our pinao was stollen.
Minnie: [sings] I thought it...
Henry: It was, Min. Pardon me, sir, I don't want to worry you but we haven't a piano.
probably supposed to be tuning the one next door.
Tuner: I *am* next door.
Minnie: No! [inaudible] What?
Henry: We're in the wrong house again! Well, we had a piano like that stolen. What color's
Tuner: Black and white.
Both: It's ours! It's ours!
Greenslade: Now, over to Bloodnock's room where the windows are never closed.
FX: bed sounds
Major: Oh, this bed! It's terrible!
Servant: Um, your breakfast, Major.
Major: Breakfast? What year?
Voice: The vintage, 53.
Major: One of their finest years. [door opens, Major screams]
Seagoon: Major Bloodknock! I saw a light in your window and a frown in the doorway, so I
came in, glasses first.
Major: Great news, Ned! Grytpype's paying you to go on holiday. Have you any warm clothes?
Seagoon: No, but I can get some cold ones and put them in the oven.
Major: Here are your tickets, lad.
Seagoon: First class lift? Where am I going?
Major: Up to the seventh floor, Ned, away from it all! You know, on a clear day you can
clothes line opposite and Mrs Puge in the bath? [Laughs] Bye, Ned, bye. Elinga, go down
rifle his room with a rifle. Bye, lad.
Seagoon: Gadzooks, fancy a free trip to the 7th floor by first-class lift!
Voice: Are you going far?
Seagoon: 7th floor.
Sellers: Oh. Penelope and I went there last year, didn't we, did we, dear?
Milligan: Yes, darling.
Sellers: Trouble is, it's full of people from [inaudible], wasn't it, dear?
Milligan: Yes [inaudible]
Seagoon: Is this the little woman?
Sellers: Yes, she's 2 foot 6.
Willum?: Can't you see, [the first thing in corn beef?]
Willum?: And all kinds of stewed fruits and mutton. Would you like a bit of stewed fruit
Seagoon: No, thank you, I brought my lunch, you know.
Willum?: [inaudible] I've got your ticket right... Here, [inaudible] It says here your
19 stones, 3 lbs.
Seagoon: Give me that! It's all lies, I tell you, I'm slimming, I've never been so light!
FX: elevator falls
Selelrs: Ground floor again..
Seagoon: It wasn't [inaudible] I tell you, I'm as light as a feather!
FX: crashing sounds?
Major: Neddy! Welcome back to your old basement! Have a nice time - Did you have nice
weather or haven't you watched? For the second part of your holiday - Ellington? Fire us
coach and four and take Mr. Seagoon's parcel, [M2].
Ellington: [inaudible] Hey-oh, Silver [inaudible]
Seagoon: Along the King's Highway we rumbled, [hired?] ducks at a full gallup. It was mid
January, and for the sake of the story, the coach was full of me and Ray Ellington.
Bluebottle: Thank you. For my next impression... [cries out]
Greenslade: Now, "The Spanish Dubloons," part the hair. The stage coach.
Ellington: Gee-up! Whooooooaaaaa! Fat [inaudible]
Seagoon: What's the matter, driver! Why have we stopped?
Ellington: One of the horses got a puncture.
Seagoon: Which one?
Seagoon: What are you doing as a horse?
Eccles: I've gotta make a living, too.
Seagoon: But you look frozen!
Eccles: I'm an ice-Eccles [laughs]. Okay. You win folks, I like doing impressions of
Bluebottle: Yeah, it's a hobby horse-hee-hee!
Eccles: Oh, exactly right [inaudible]
Bluebottle: I never said nothing...
Seagoon: Look! Over there in Part 3! An old manor! I wonder who lives in it?
FX: scary old manor-type sounds
Dyall: A-ha! There is a coach from Part 2 stopped outside. Hark! The hoot of an owl. She
gives one. Obviously she doesn't give two hoots! [diabolical laughter] They don't write
FX: door bell
Dyall: Open the door!
Servant: All right, sir...
FX: Door approached and broken open laboriously
Dyall: You forgot the key, didn't you?
Seagoon: Ah! Good evening!
Dyall: You ought to know, you're outside.
Seagoon: You're inside, in the warm.
Dyall: It seems a pretty healthy arrangement. Here's half a nicker.
Seagoon: Gad, a wooden leg!
Bluebottle: I don't like this man...
Seagoon: I don't like him, either.
Eccles: I don't like him, too.
Dyall: How do you think I feel!? I happen to *be* him!
Seagoon: Monsier, our story has broken dowm and we're stuck for lodgings.
Dyall: You certainly are. What you want. Bed and breakfast?
Seagoon: Yes, please.
Dyall: I'll leave it outside. In the garden.
Seagoon: Can we have shelter?
Dyall: Very well, come in. Wipe your feet - *and* your boots!
Eccles: [inaudible] Hello.
Dyall: [sotto voce] Gad, what a beautiful woman!
Eccles: Get away from me, you naughty man!
Dyall: You're the living image of my first, second, third, fourth and fifth wives!
Eccles: I do impressions.
Dyall: Ha-ha! You joking devil...
Eccles: [laughs as though tickled].
Dyall: Come, let's all sit round the fire! My name is Count Valentine Dyall I have one
Eccles: That must be your son, Dyall! [laughs]
Bluebottle: Shut up, Eccles! Your [inaudible]ing them all away! Hooray for [gerkins?].
Dyall: Yes, my son, Dyall's a strange boy, he spends all his life collecting the silver
tops. Sacks of them. He takes them away, heaven knows where, and buries them.
Seagoon: There goes the plot, folks!
Dyall: For years he lived in South America on safari. For months he was trapped in the
Seagoon: Couldn't he get the door open?
Dyall: No! He was collecting rare South American pianos for the zoo. This one is stuffed!
me... let me let you hear the exotic, soft beauty of it.
FX: piano plays Moonlight Sonata as Dyall laughs
Dyall: There, that mellow, exotic, delicate, beautifully played Peruvian melody. I
especially for myself.
Seagoon: What do you call it?
Dyall: I call it... "Fred"!
Seagoon: Suddenly, Count Dyall's face took on a maniacal aspect. [inaudible] started
laughing insanely. Look out! He's got a knife! Eccles!
Bluebottle: And a fork!
Eccles: And a spoon!
Bluebottle: He's going to eat you, Neddy!
Seagoon: What? I'm off!
Dyall: And so, folks, because Neddy was off, I didn't eat him.
Major: Don't you worry, folks, better pay offs are being arranged at this very moment.
Greenslade: This story started with silver dubloons. Let us join Thynne as he dines at the
FX: Pigs at trough; ballroom music
Thynne: Mmm! An excellent meal, Moriarty.
Moriarty: Why do you keep me chained under the table?
Thynne: Waiter, the bill.
Waiter/Greenslade: Oui, monsier, it is 10,000 francs in French.
Thynne: Will these silver Spanish dubloons suffice.
FX: Pours out bag full
Waiter/Greenslade: These are milk bottle tops.
Thynne: Curse! Foiled by filk mottle box!
Greenslade: There, now, folks, that didn't hurt, did it? Incidently, I played the part of
French waiter. Good night.
[no end credits on my copy]