5th Series No. 19




(Announced as 'The Lost Music of Purdom')




















Wal: This is the BBC Home Service.

Harry: Jolly good. Bravo. Well done.

OMNES: Hear, hear (etc.)

Wal: Thank you gentlemen, for praising my announcing. But I was merely doing my duty in upholding the finer traditions of my alma mater, the Home Service.

OMNES: Hear, hear, well done.

Wal: (And ... And furthermore, gentlemen, may I say how splendid I think the Home Service is, thanks to the "enopradeig" of the Corporation, Mr. John Snagge.

OMNES: Hear, hear, well said.

Wal: Yes. Yes, it was he who, in my darkest hour, handed unto me a copy of the Radio Times ...

Harry: What bliss.

Wal: ... on whose friendly pages, couched in beautiful Victorian English, I found a wealth of jolly good programmes.

OMNES: Approving 'yea's etc., clinking of glasses, cries of 'Huzzah', 'well done', etc. (1))

Wal: Yes, indeed, the Home Service provides us with the best programmes.

Spike: Always, yes.

Wal: Therefore, it is with a heavy heart I announce one of the worst.

Harry: (He was going to refer to the highly esteemed Goon Show.

OMNES: Mixture of boos and cheers

Harry: Thank you Archie Andrews fans. (1)) Mister Greenslade, stop reading that Radio Times,pull up your bloomers, and tell England.

Wal: All right. England, I'm pulling up my bloomers.

OMNES: Cheers, Hooray etc.

Wal: Stop! Thank you Greensladers. Put away those cameras, because now, the Goons are about to embark on a strange story, entontled ...

Spike: The Lost Music of Purdom.

ORCHESTRA: Fanfare, harp piece, then mood music for a mystery

Neddie: My name is Seagoon - Neddie Seagoon. You've possibly seen my name in the Mirror. It reads Noogeas Ydden Noogeas. In the year ninetoon hundred and scanson scree I was employed at the Norwich Castle Museum as a translator of ancient manuscripts. My keeper was a certain Mr. Roger Fudgeknuckle.

Peter (Elderly Scotsman voice): Eeeh, mah Neddie. That's all for today. What's the time?

Neddie: (big yawn) Three minutes to midnight.

Peter (Scottish): Oooh well. Might as well have an early night then, eh Neddie?

Neddie: Oh shut up, you mean old bounder. (laughs) (to audience) Deaf as a coot!

Peter (Scottish): Goodnight, Neddie.

Neddie: Goodnight, you bald old bathbun.

Peter (Scottish): Goodnight. Oh, Neddie ...

Neddie: Yes?

Peter (Scottish): I just thought to tell ye. One day you're going to be a bald old bath bun too.

Neddie: Eh, what what what what?

Peter (Scottish): Ye thought I was deaf. (goes away muttering)

FX: Phone rings, picked up

Neddie: Hello.

Spike (phone): Hello. Is that the Norwich Castle Museum?

Neddie: Yes.

Spike (phone): I must ask you to speak louder

Neddie: Why?

Spike (phone): I haven't got a phone.

Neddie: Can't you find a phone box?

Spike (phone): I don't think they've got one around here.

Neddie: Why? Where are you?

Spike (phone): On top of a bus.

Neddie: What are you doing up there?

Spike (phone): I wanted to smoke.

Neddie: Well, what do you want?

Spike (phone): A match please.

Neddie: Just a moment. Here!

FX: Match strikes

Spike (phone): (breathes deeply) Aagh. Merchi, mon ami. I'm speaking on behalf of the famous London antique dealer, the Honourable Grytpype Thynne. He's looking for a bright assistant.

Neddie: The Honourable Hercules Grytpype Thynne? Why, he was the famous London antique dealer who was looking for a bright assistant. Hmm. (clears throat) What wage is he offering?

Spike (phone): Shall we say, X pounds?

Neddie: I accept. That's more than I ever got here. Where shall I meet you?

Spike (phone): Wherever you like.

Neddie: Right. See you there.

Spike (phone): Good. Now, umm, what time?

Neddie: I'll leave that to you.

Spike (phone): Splendid. Don't be late. Goodbye.

Peter (Scottish): Who was that, Neddie?

Neddie: Curse, I forgot to ask. (into phone) Hello, hello, hello hello?

Spike (phone): Yes. Yes.

Neddie: I forgot to ask your name.

Spike (phone): I'm sorry. I can't tell you.

Neddie: Why not?

Spike (phone): I've hung up.

Neddie: Curse.

Spike (phone): However, while we're about it, what's yours?

Neddie: Seagoon.

Spike (phone): Till we meet then. Au reservoir.

[FX: phone hung up]

Neddie: Well, Mr. Fudgeknuckle. I'm handing in my notice.

Peter (Scottish): Dear laddie. Just because you resign don't think Norwich Museum's going to fall doon.

Neddie: Very well. (loudly) I resign! (silence) Right. Now, hands up all those who thought the museum was going to fall down. Eh? Come along, come along, let's see you. RIght. Now, take a thousand lines - 'I must not try and guess the end of Goon Show gags'. Alright. Carry on.

GRAMS: Crash of building collapsing, masonry falling etc.

Neddie: Wrong again. That was the Tower of Pisa. Carry on, Mr. Greenslade. Give 'em the old chat there on the old wireless.

Wal: We take up the story where Neddie Seagoon Kneecaps meets the mysterious phone caller in London, the well-known place.

Neddie: Aaagh. Good evening. I'm sorry I'm late.

Spike: I acept your applegopalgee. Now then, follow me into this highly mysterious house.

FX: Door opens to sound of long squeaking hinges

Spike: Now, follow me into this highly mysterious room.

Grytpype: Oh - good evening, gentlemen.

FX: Door closes

Grytpype: Aah. Mr. Seagoon.

Neddie: How do you do?

Grtypype: Throat!

Thoat (deep voice): Yes?

Grytpype: Take Mr. Seagoon's hat. And burn it.

Throat: Right.

Neddie: So this was the Honourable Grytpype Thynne. He stood warming himself in front of the big open fire, with his big open trousers. Around the room were hung mummified trams, ancient scrolls, scripts, parchment overcoats and a few early stone saxophones.

Grytpype: Come, Neddie. Warm yourself by the fire. Oh, Moriarty, break open a bottle of wine.

FX: Bottle smashes

Grytpype: Thank you. Now, Neddie ... (what experience have you had in translating ancient scripts?

Neddie: Three years with Ray's A Laugh.

Grytpype: A graduate, by jove. Well, this calls for a drink. Moriarty, break open another bottle.

FX: Bottle smashes

Grytpype: Thank you. So, Neddie ... (1)) you've been on the radio, have you?

Neddie: Yes. Though I fear it's a dying medium.

Grytpype: I knew a dying medium once. He got better.

Neddie: How terribly jolly for the spirit.

Grytpype: Yes, Neddie. (both laugh) Oh dear. The Director of the BBC Home Service is looking for new ideas.

Neddie: How about suicide?

Grytpype: Yes. (Yes. The point is, you see, when the Goon Show finishes,

they want to try to restore the dignity of Tuesday nights.

Neddie: How about closing down? (1))

Grytpype: Oh, ye good joke. I say, Moriarty ....

FX: Bottle smashes

Grytpype: Thank you. Neddie, let me tell you a tale. Four thousand years ago, a Lebanese slave named Purdom recorded the only known music of ancient

Babylon. Now, this music was lost, but has been seen recently in a certain Arab


Neddie: What's a souk?

Grytpype: Souk it and see. But, um ...

FX: Bottle smashes

Grytpype: Thank you Moriarty. Let Greenslade explain. What I want ... (fades


Wal: May I explain that the BBC Home Service are offering fifty pounds for the recovery of this lost manuscript of Purdom. Fifty pounds or a life subscription to The Radio Times. While Mr. Seagoon is deciding which of these offers to accept, a fine old English gentleman, Max Geldray, will play a frozen Arab souk, from the waist down.

MUSIC: Max Geldray plays 'I Can't Believe That You're In Love With Me'.


Wal: The highly esteemed Goon Show, part the second, in which Ned Seagoon travels to foreign climes, in search of the lost papyrus.

ORCHESTRA: Eastern mood music

Neddie: (Mesopotamia, city of filth.(2)) As I stepped down the gangplank at Aboudan, I was greeted by a mysterious arab.

Willium (mate): Psst. 'Ere, are you Neddie Seagoon?

Neddie: Only by name.

Willium: Follow me, mate.

GRAMS: Footsteps going faster until running

Neddie: (puffing and out of breath) I followed him for three weeks. Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked him ... where are you taking me?

Willium: Nowhere, Mate.

Neddie: Then why did you ask me to follow you?

Willium: I was lonely, mate.

Neddie: What! You're brought me all this way for nothing?

Willium: Well, you can pay me if you want to, but ...

Neddie: I've got a good mind to ...

Willium: No, no, no - don't nut me, mate. Don't nut me. I'll tell you the truth, so, cor love-a-duck, struth, cor stone the crows, cor blimey I will.

Neddie: Londoner, aren't you?

Willium: No. Yorkshire. You see, mate, I was bribed to lead you into this desert and leave you here to die.

Neddie: Leave me here to die?

Willium: Well ... to die or tomorrow.

Neddie: I don't wish to know that!

Willium: Neither do I.

Neddie: Who does? Well ... who put you up to this?

Willium: The forces of evil.

Neddie: The horses of thevil? Er, who are they? Speak up so that listeners without radio sets might clearly hear the plot.

Willium: The bloke's names was Doctor Eidelbergers and Yokomotos. They're after the lost music of Purdom.

Neddie: They mustn't get it before the Home Service. Now, how do we get out of this terrible desert? But hist, I hear horses heeves approaching.

GRAMS: Outlandish hissing and puffing engine noises, backfiring, hisses until stops, then 'pop'

Eccles: Hello! Are you the one that's lost in the desert?

Neddie: Yes - but how did you know?

Eccles: I've been listening on the radio.

Neddie: I eyed the stranger closely. He was living proof that the Piltdown skull was not a hoax. He was dressed in an egg-stained nightshirt, army surplus boots and a raccoon-skinned trilby with the brim pulled well down over the knees.

Eccles: You can laugh, you can laugh. I'm the famous Eccles.

Neddie: Famous for what?

Eccles: Well ... you've seen the Eiffel Tower?

Neddie: Yes.

Eccles: Well ... let that be a lesson to you. (to audience) These are all on my side.

Neddie: Wait a minute. How does the Eiffel Tower make you famous?

Eccles: I fell off it.

Neddie: No man has ever fallen off the Eiffel Tower and lived.

Eccles: You call this living?

Neddie: Only during the mating season.

Eccles: Good luck.

Neddie: Where do you live?

Eccles: Oh, in that home over there.

Neddie: That's a pyramid. That's a place where they bury the dead.

Eccles: Any questions?

Neddie: Well, now you've exhausted your store of three-letter words, perhaps you'd be so kind as to give us a lift to the nearest settlement.

Eccles: Okay. There ain't no room in my car, but you can run behind.

Neddie: Thanks. That'll save walking.

Eccles: Hold tight.

Willium: Matey. Can I stand on the running-board?

Eccles: Certainly. Now, hold tight.

GRAMS: Engine noises, hissing, backfires, drives off, honks horn, fades

Willium: Well, it's no good standing here on this running-board. Might as well follow 'em.

Neddie: I'll come with you.

Eccles: Mind if I come too?

Neddie: About time you came to. Now, come on. We must get to the town before sundown. You take the saxophone. Eccles, you on the piano. Now, let's go.

GRAMS: Dance music accompanied by shuffling footsteps

Wal: Meantime, unknown to Seagoon and the Director of the Home Service, on a bus travelling from Oldham to Cleethorpes, a certain conversation is going on.

Peter (Slow dumb accent): It's in a cage, you say.

Harry (Same slow, dumb manner): Aye. It were when I bought it, you know.

Peter: Aye. What kind of bird is it?

Harry: Well, I'm not sure, really. You see I got it off a sailor, you know.

Peter: Oh aye. I say, what's the colour of its plumage?

Harry: Oh, you can't see it. It's covered with feathers.

Peter: Nature's wonderful, isn't it?

Harry: Aye.

Peter: I don't know what they'll think of next.

Harry: Sailor gave it me, you know.

Peter: Oh aye?

Harry: Aye. A sailor. It's got a red beak at one end, and a tail at the other.

Peter: And ... ?

Harry: And a bird in between.

Peter: It's in between then, is it?

Harry: Aye.

Peter: Aye. That's a good place for it, you know.

Harry: Well, he seems to be happy there, you know.

Peter: Well then, I wouldn't move him.

Harry: I don't think I shall, really.

Peter: You know, I had one the same build. Beak one, tail the other and the bird dead in between, it were.

Harry: They're like that, aren't they? Funny that, aye.

Peter: They look lovely, too.

Harry: They do look nice. You can't, you can't comment, you must admit.

Peter: I say, what's this I've heard about your missus?

Harry: Oh aye. Well, you know. It's very funny this. She had an operation on the kitchen table amongst the cornflakes packets, and then, er ... (fades away)

Wal: Ladies and gentlemen, that conversation has nothing to do with the show. But we thought listeners would like to hear what a couple of real idiots sounded like. And, if you would like to hear four real idiots, keep listening ...

MUSIC: Ray Ellington Quartet. Ray Ellington sings 'Mambo Italiano'


Wal: We return you now to The Music of Purdom, part the third.

ORCHESTRA: Sombre Eastern mood music

Wal: Lost. Seagoon and company are hopelessly lost in the desert, and in a blinding sandstorm, see a light ahead. It is a little antique shop on the outskirts of Aleppo.

GRAMS: Sound of sandstorm

Minnie: (sings) Yim bom biddle dee, yim biddle doh. Yim bom ...

FX: Door opens, closes

Henry: Min ...

Minnie: Yim bom Italiano yum diddle dee ... I got ...

Henry: Minnie. Min, Min - stop that modern Eastern style rhythm singing. Please remember, we're British.

Minnie: Mmm. I've got to keep my voice in practice, Henry. My day is coming buddy.

Henry: (What? What do you mean?

Minnie: Well, Anne Ziegler can't live forever.

Hanry: What do you mean, she can't. She has. (1))

Minnie: Yum yum yumbo Italiano. Yim dim biddle doh. Yukabako.

Henry: Min. Min - stop it.

Minnie: Biddle doh.

Henry: Naughty Min.

Minnie: What?

Henry: Look, Min. I want you to send this to Mr. Nay Master, the Bond Street Art Galleries.

Minnie: What is it?

Henry: It's a rare old wine vase. Be careful with it Min, it's worth ...

FX: Vase smashing

Henry: ... nothing.

Minnie: Yim bom biddle ...

FX: Door opens

Ray (Big Chief voice): Me Ellinga. Me strong. Me beat man with one hand. Me kill. Strong. Me kill 'em.

Henry: Yes. Yes. Yes, very good. Ellinga, I want you to take this ...

FX: Knocking at door

Henry: Drat it. Ellinga, answer the ...

Ray: Me strong. Me kill 'em man with one hand.

FX: Knocking at door continues

Henry: Answer the door, Ellinga.

FX: Phone rings

Minnie: The phone's ringing, Henry.

Henry: I know it's ringing.

Minnie: Then why don't you answer it, buddy.

Henry: I can't, when it's making all that noise.

Minnie: Answer that phone.

Henry: Answer that door.

FX: Knocking at door continues, plus phone continues ringing

Ray: Me strong. Me kill 'em man with one hand. Me kill.

Neddie: (shouts) Anybody in? Anybody in? Open up this door.

Ray: Me strong. Me kill 'em.

GRAMS: Over all this noise, Big Ben chiming

Henry: (yells over all this din) Stop it! Stop. Stop it, you hear me. Aaaahh. Aaah. Ooh.

(short second of silence)

Minnie: (sings) Yim bom biddle ...

Ray: Me strong ...

FX: Door knocking starts up again

GRAMS: Big Ben Chimes. Bagpipes start playing

Neddie: (shouts) Open the door! Open the door!

FX: Door opens

Neddie: Stop!! What the devil's going on in here?

Henry: Do you come here often?

Neddie: Only in the mating season.

Minnie: Ooohh!

Henry: Steady, Min.

Minnie: Yes, buddy.

Neddie: I observe that this is an antique shop. Tell me, have you by any chance come across a manuscript signed 'Purdom'?

Henry: Yes.

Neddie: What?

Henry: I threw it in the dustbin yesterday.

Neddie: Has it been emptied?

Henry: Yes. They empty all Arab dustbins at Sidi Rosaic.

Neddie: Come, Eccles, we must hurry.

GRAMS: Third Man theme played fast

Wal: We move now to Sidi Rosaic, the great Arab dustheap.

OMNES: Pooh! pooh!

FX: Dustbins clanging, lids off, etc.

Eccles: Blimey! Pooh!

Neddie: Put that down, Eccles.

Eccles: Oooh. Look at dat. Pooh!

FX: More dustbins clanging

OMNES: (over) Phew! Pooh! etc.

Wal: While Mr. Seagoon is searching for the lost manuscript, let us go over to Churdstone Prison, where Mondigent Clute is waiting for us.

Peter (Interviewer voice): Hello listeners. And I'm speaking from Churdstone Prison, and standing next to me is is the Prison Governor, Mr. Norris Lurker. Good evening Mr. Lurker.

Harry: Good evening.

Peter: Grand. Mr. Lurker, this is, is it not, a prison without bars.

Harry: Yes. I believe that when a man gives us his word not to escape, that's good enough for us, you know?

Peter: Grand.

Harry: Yes, it's good enough for us. We have no restrictions on the prisoners whatever, whatsoever. Anytime they like, they can walk out of here. No bars, you know, no bars at all.

Peter: No.

Harry: All we have is their word of honour.

Peter: Yes. Grand, grand. Er, could we interview one of these honour prisoners?

Harry: Certainly.

Peter: Good. Good.

Harry: (shouts) James! (pause) James!! (pause) Wilson? Barry Wilson? (pause) Hamilton! Hamilton? Charlie Brown? Willoughby? (more agitated) Crouch? Crouch? Charkampton? Aberdan? (panics, shouting to fade)

GRAMS: Alarm bells ring, followed by dance music over

Spike: (sings) I'm only a strolling vagabond so good-a-night ...

GRAMS: Fred the Oyster sound, fast marching to trumpet band

Spike: This isn't good enough, you know.

Wal: We return now to the great Arab dust heap.

OMNES: Poooh! Phew! Pooh!

FX: Dustbins clanging, lids taked off and on

Eccles: Gorblimey - look at this one.

Neddie: Leave it alone, Eccles. Oh it's no good, it's not here. There's no sign of the lost manuscript. Wait! This dustbin here ...

Eccles: What?

Neddie: Eccles, help me to empty it.

FX: Dustbin up-ended, sound of cans etc., falling out

Bluebottle: Aiegghowie! You rotten swines, you. Eeeh! You have nutted me. I was kippin' in the dustbin, and splunge! I was hurled out onto my little nut. Eeeh!

Neddie: Little rubbish-covered idiot - who are you?

Bluebottle: Who am I? I'm Bluebottle. Yingtong idn-plong ding.

Neddie: Good.

Bluebottle: If you listen to the radio, you'd know that was'n Bluebottle. Dat was what I am. Do you come here often?

Neddie: Only during the mating season. Now, have you seen an ancient musical document, signed 'Purdom'?

Bluebottle: No, my capitan. I have not seen an ancient musical document signed 'Purdom'. Thinks: I have not seen an ancient musical document, signed 'Purdom'. No.

Eccles: Quick! Quick, Ooh look, ooh! What's this I found?

Neddie: Let's see. This is it! The lost music of Purdom. Eccles, let the world hear it!

Eccles: Oooh! The lost music of Purdom. (sings) Per-dum, per-dum, Perdum perdum perdum perdum ...

ORCHESTRA: Closing theme

Wal: That was the Goon Show, a recorded program featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe and Spike Milligan, with the Ray Ellington Quartet and Max Geldray. The orchestra was conducted by Wally Stott. Script by Spike Milligan and Eric Sykes. Announcer Wallace Greenslade. The program produced by Peter Eton.

ORCHESTRA: Theme to end, then playout.

(1) Not in 'Pick of the Goons' version

(2) In 'Pick of the Goons', but not in original UK broadcast version.