{ . . . } Cut out of 'full' version 28:56 long
\...\ cut out of 22:23 or 22:11 cd version
/ .../ cut out of 26:41 TS version
Robin Hood 

Wallace Greenslade: This is the BBC. 

Band: Trumpet Fanfare. 

Wallace Greenslade: This is London calling the world. 

Eccles: Hello world! 

Wallace Greenslade: That was the voice of England. 

Seagoon: (laughs) We're in a bad way, mate! 

Wallace Greenslade: Shoosh! Mr Seagoon! Donít spoil this magic moment. Kindly put on these self-splitting tights. 

Seagoon: What for? 

Wallace Greenslade: The Goon Show Christmas pantomime entitled Robin Hood and his mirry mon (merry men). 

Grams: Bells pealing 

Band: Dramatic fanfare and background music for narration 

Narrator: It is now Christmas Eve in the year eleven ninety-one. In distant Acre (*1) my lord, King Richard, Coeur-de-Lyon, does battle in a valiant crusade. But, here at home in England's realm, a despotic rump is lowered onto our ancient throne. Its owner is yclept (*2) Prince John. 

Seagoon: But, to the poor people of England, hope is kindled by a magic name - Robin Hood! 

Cast utters cries of 'Robin Hood'. 

Band Fanfare 

\FX: Knives and forks on plates, chatter, laughter, flute playing in background. Under:\

\Sheriff: Come my Prince John, raise such a great Christmas yule tide type of feast of vitals for your baron and yet eat not yourself? Come partake of this side of ox.\

\Prince John: Oh, no thanks, I've just had a boiled egg.\

\Sheriff: Oh my thin Prince, why are you so broody tonight?\

\Prince John: I think the egg's hatched.\

\Sheriff: My majestry was given a bad egg? I'll have the chef boiled alive!\

\Prince John: No, I'm not that hungry, pass me another fairy cake please.\

Sheriff: Your majesty, is it this Robin Hood vagabond that upsets you? 

Prince John: Oh, donít mention that man's name again, don't mention that man's name to me again! 

Sheriff: But what part of him shall I mention then? 

Prince John: Well, there's so much of him. 

Sheriff: Well you insisted on Secombe playing the part. 

Seagoon: What what what what what what what what what? 

Sheriff: Quiet back there, you're not on 'til the second act! 

Prince John: My lord, Sheriff of Nottingham, I have decided you will capture that fellow Robin Hood by Christmas or I'll split your grotkin with a leather mackerel-sheet. 

Sheriff: Ooo majesty! 

Prince John: The reward will be, ah um, a hundred gold splonders. 

Sheriff: One hundred gold splonders! Hahaha! 

ORCHESTRA: Dramatic link 

(?)Grams(?): General Crowd Noises 

Jim Spriggs: Ding-dong! Clang! Clang-ding-dong-dang-dang! Here ye! Ding-dang! Stolen - one bell! Hear ye...silence, good people of Nottingham! A proclamation from the sheriff - he sends you Christmas and Xmas greetings at the same time and he will give one gold splonder for the capture of Robin Hood, dead or alive, or both. Also, there will be an archery-type contest on ye green. A willow wand will be split in thrice and there will be a prize of ~~~ Christmas pudding ... (trails off) 

Grytpype: Did ye hear that, Moriarty? Ye golden splonder for ye Robin Hood. 

Moriarty: Ye money. Owww! Ye owww! Ye gotta go owwww! 

Grytpype: You've got to go

Grytpype & Moriarty: owww.

Moriarty: Another record sold. 

Grytpype: Oww! And ye archery contest. 

Moriarty: Thatís what he said. 

Grytpype: Moriarty, me thinks, me can gain me a gold splonder. 

Moriarty: But how? We've got no contacts. 

Grytpype: Please, donít do that with your teeth out! Stop worrying, Moriarty, I've got a trump card up my sleeve. 

Moriarty: And I've got newspaper in my boots. 

Grytpype: Yes, well you always were a snappy dresser, weren't you? Come, steaming Frank pack the jam tins. You and I are going to take a coach ride through Sherwood Forest. 

Moriarty: Oh a little ~~~tat tars (*3)(???) 

ORCHESTRA: Dramatic link

Grams: Horses and carriage 

MUSIC: Trumpet plays corny 'pop goes the weasel', played like an army reveille

Minn: What /{a lovely...what}/ a...what a lovely tune that was 

Crun: Yes. Its snowing, Minn 

Minn: Ohh! 

Crun: Doesnít it look nice? 

Minn: Yes 

Crun: I, I wonder where we are, Minn? 

Minn: I'll find out. Pardon me, young man, could you tell us where we are? 

Grytpype: You're riding in a coach, Ma'am 

Minn: Ahh - thank you, young man 

Crun: What did he say, Minn? 

Minn: He said we're riding in a coach, Henry 

Crun: Ohh! Where's Auntie Gladys? 

Minn: Ohh! Oh - she waved us goodbye when we left 

Crun: Ohh! The wonders of speed travel. To think we only came to see Auntie Gladys off and here we are riding through Sherwood Forest. 

Minn: It's the wonder of modern type travel.

Crun: Yes, yes.

Minn: Oo! Oo dear! What the..? Oo! Oo! Pardon me, young man, is that your Christmas brown paper parcel under the seat? 

Grytpype: That brown Christmas parcel, madam, is an eccentric French count of some thirty-two summers 

Moriarty: Owww! 

Grytpype: He insists on riding with his back to the axle - I think it's  something to do with the shortage of money 

Minn: Ooo - he says its something to do with the shortage of money, Henry. 

Crun: You can't get it, Minn. There's a shortage of shortages too you know

Minn: Where will it all end? Ooo - hallelujah. Ooo dear. 

Crun: Minn! Did you put the cat out? 

Minn: No, it wasn't on fire 

Crun: Oh dear. Well I'm going up to bed, Minn. 

Minn: No smoking up top now. I'll lock up from the hanging(?)(?)(?) 

Grams: Horse whinnying 

Minn & Crun Alarmed exclamations

Grams: Horse hooves slowing to stop 

Seagoon: Merry Christmas - your money or your life! 

Crun: Happy new year! An outlaw! 

Minn: Ohhhh mercy, we'll all be murdered in our beds! Get away, you devil in green 

Crun: Go on Minn, give him the length of your tongue! 

Minn: I will - six and a half inches! 

FX: Door opened

Seagoon: Come (Crun ???), get out of that bed and hand over your money 

Minn & Crun: Ohhh! 

Seagoon: Don't worry, old wrinkled retainer. I won't harm a hair of your head 

Crun: If you can find a hair on my head, I'll pay you for it. 

Seagoon: Wait! What's that shaking heap of bones under the seat? 

Moriatry: Ah-o-a-a-a-oh

Grytpype: That is, and I quote from this floodlit bankruptcy note, Count Jim Springknees Moriarty, who seeks the English archer Robin Hood. 

Seagoon: I am he he-he-he-he! 

Band: Chord 

Seagoon: Next dance, please. 

Minn: Thank you sir 

Grytpype: Robin, my friend and I wish to join your band. We play C-melody saxophones 

\Seagoon: Give proof.\

\Orchestra: Two saxaphones playing jazz\

Seagoon: \Split me terikin (???) ye bloweth a cool metal pipe! \ By Fred the Kenton! I'll sign you on for five and seven. 

Grytpype: Give the man five and seven, Moriarty, and sign on. 

Moriarty: Ohh! 

Grams: Cash register 

Seagoon: Thank you. Now report to (?)Q-stores for the old battle dress of Lincoln green now(?) two bows and arrows and a pair of spare feet. (click of tongue) Breakfast o-six-hundred, parade o-six-o-one. \Right maxster Geldray, beguile me with a merry tune on the old nostril.\

\INTERVAL: Max Geldray "You're the cream in my coffee"\

\(applause)\

\ORCHESTRA : Subdued fanfare link\

MUSIC: Strumming Lute 

Minstrel: (Sung over lute) The snow was gently falling, as Robin to Nottingham went. He entered the archery contest with a hat all battered and a-bennnnnnnoh (stops singing) thatís enough of that. 

Grams: Spring-woosh thud, combination x3 for arrows 

Seagoon: Ye Grytpype. Do you think ye people will recognise me in this Kentucky minstrel disguise 

Grytpype: Ye no 

Moriarty: Its your turn to shoot, Robin 

Grytpype: No, I shot him last time! Hoho! Ye joke, Robin 

Seagoon: Yes. Ye haha 

Wallace Greenslade: Ye next bowman please 

Moriarty: Your turn 

Seagoon: Watch this for shooting 

Grytpype: Right 

Grams: Spring-woosh-thud-Moo! 

Grytpype: A bull! 

Wallace Greenslade: Ye charlie disguised as ye Kentucky minstrel wins 

Seagoon: Ye hooray 

/All: Hooray /

Prince John: Here archer, you pull a mean bow 

Seagoon: Yes it was given me by a mean uncle! Hahahaha, ye joke! 

Prince John: Oh no, no, leave ye jokes to me. I wear ye funny crown. Now tell me, where did you learn to pull a long bow? 

Seagoon: I took a postal correspondence course. The envelopes were six feet long. Hahahaha 

Prince John: Please donít, please donít tell any more like that. Bad enough having to laugh at my own without having to listen to yours. The smelling salts please. 

Grams: Squeak 

Sheriff: There there, your majesty. Give him his prize and let him go 

Prince John: Here, a ten shilling postal order for one three and a piece of holly. 

Seagoon: This smells of trickery 

Prince John: Imm? (Sniffs) Smells alright to me 

Grytpype: Stop! Your majesty, ere the archer departs, allow me to remove his wig 

Moriarty: And his trousers 

Gryptype: So!

Seagoon: No! 

All: Ooo! (Amazed Mutterings) 

Sheriff: Its Robin Hood! Ye seize him! 

Seagoon: Stop! Stop! Ye traitor, Thynne! I'll write to the Times about this 

Grams: Quill scratching on paper 

Seagoon: (over effect) Dear Sir, I should like to say... 

Prince John: Silence wretch! 

Grytpype: Your majesty, may we crave the reward of one golden splonder? 

Prince John: One? Well, I offered a hundred and a hundred you shall have. 

Sheriff: Ah, thank you, sire. Here steaming churls(???), one golden splonder 

Moriarty: One out of a hundred? We've been taken for charlies. /{One golden splonder! Owww!}/

Grytpype: /{Wait a minute -}/ Who cops the other ninety-nine? 

Sheriff: Inland Revenue 

Grytpype: I've never heard of them 

Sheriff: They've heard of me. 

Prince John: No, no. Stop all this arguing. I'm not having ye happy time. I'm (?)quit of ye colour.(?) 

Sheriff: Have ye aspirin. 

Prince John: No, I'm not strong enough. 

Sheriff: All your ills will be gone by dawn tomorrow when Robin Hood will be hung...drawn...quartered...clubbed...struck...lifted...lowered...hurled...stretched....drowned...dragged....drugged...bashed...bonked...thudded...tweaked...walloped and then ... splugged on a gillikin spike. 

Prince John: Do you mind if I sit down? 

Sheriff: Now, throw the wretch into dungeons dark, dank and donk 

Loud Crowd noises 

Seagoon: Ye'll pay for this! 

Sheriff: Nonsense, we get it all free on National Health. 

Band: Descending Scale 

(throughout dungeon scene acoustics are echoy as in a large chamber)

MUSIC: Lute Strums 

Minstrel: (sung over lute) Cast into dungeons dark dank and donk, all hopes of freedom gone. Chained by the walls by his nose, teeth and ears, three for the price of one. (Mutters) Not very good ~~~ worry ~~~

Seagoon: He's gone. Dont worry folks, I wont be in this cell for long. Ha ha ha. /{They've promised to take me out and ha...do that again. I won't be in this cell for long.}/ They've promised to take me out at dawn and hang me. /{I said it.}/ But, but they'll never do it. Before then, my brilliant lieutenant, Friar Balsam, has promised to rescue me. 

Friar: Pssssst 

Seagoon: What is that I hear? 

Friar: Pssssst 

Seagoon: How do you spell it? 

Friar: Pssss ssss ssst 

Seagoon: What? Why, thatís the way Friar Balsam pronounces Pssssst's! Is that you, Friar Balsam, come to rescue me? 

Friar: Yes 

Seagoon: Where are you, my clever lieutenant? 

Friar: Behind you, chained to the wall by the ears, nose and throat 

Seagoon: You clever lieutenant! You've disguised yourself as a prisoner. 

Friar: Have I? Have I got news for you! The truth is, I'm a prisoner too. My arms are chained by the neck. 

\Seagoon: Ah, are your legs chained?\

\Friar: No\

Seagoon: \Then\, {\/then let's dance. /\}

{\/Friar: Delighted! /\}

{\/Grams: jazzy dance tune /\}

{\/Seagoon: Gad! You waltz divinely. Do you come here often? /\}

{\/Friar: Only when I'm caught. /\}

{\/Seagoon: Ha-ha-ha. Can't we face life together? /\}

{\/Friar: I've got news for youÖwe are facing life together! /\}

{\/Seagoon: What? Stop! Send that band back to their own cell. I've just remembered; I'm going to be killed tomorrow./\}
Seagoon: We must escape. Wait! This stone I'm chained to..it's..it's loose. Yes, I can feel a draft. (Straining noises). Done it! 

Friar: What? 

Seagoon: Taken an aspirin. I donít want to catch cold 

Friar: Wait a moment, I, I have an idea. Place your chain twixt my teeth 

Seagoon: There. Tis twixt. Now...pull! Pull! 

Friar: (Muffled straining noises) 

Seagoon: Go on, Friar Balsam, pull! Let those strong, white, English teeth pull us to freedom 

Grams: Pop followed by clattering of teeth in a bucket

Friar: (toothless) Well, don't just stand there. Put them in a glass of water! 

Seagoon: Never mind ye choppers, you pulled the stone out. Follow me through to freedom! 

Grams: Clanking of chains 

Friar: (straining noises) Gad! It is ye dark in here 

Seagoon: Yes. Its not worth opening ye eyes 

Friar: What a relief to get out of that filthy cell twenty-five. Now then, where are we? 

Seagoon: In filthy cell twenty-six. Shh! There's someone coming with a lighted candle 

Friar: (whispers) It looks like the sheriff 

Seagoon: So! He's disguised himself as a lighted candle. Quick! Hide under this straw. 

FX: Noise of hiding under straw, sounds like loading bolt action rifle or something ???

Friar: He'll never spot us under this. 

Seagoon: Haha! 

FX: Heavy door opening 

Sheriff: Alright you two idiots. Come out from under that straw. 

Friar: What, what, what

Seagoon: What what what what what? 

Sheriff: Now listen, I'm going to make a bargain with you. 

Seagoon: What what what, what? 

Sheriff: Two Christmas weight (?)poplin(?) shirts with holly attached to tail. Five and eleven pence or in Canadian money, six thousand dollars. 

Seagoon: Time to pay? 

Sheriff: Yes, I think it is time to pay 

Seagoon: I'm sorry. I've only got one on and one in the wash 

Sheriff: So! You turn my ye offer down? Very well - pay a ransom of a thousand golden splonders or hang 

\Seagoon: Ye gulp. Give me til the end of Ray Ellingtons number\

\Sheriff: Not a moment longer.\

\INTRERVAL: Ray Ellington 'She's a three handed woman'\
\(applause)\

Jim Spriggs: Dong dong Christmas Eve and all's well 

Seagoon: Midnight 

Jim Spriggs: Dong 

Seagoon: One o'clock 

Friar: Gad it's late. If that ransom money doesn't arrive by dawn, we shall never see the North Pole again. 

Seagoon: Yes, and after all that cactus I planted too. 

Friar: Yes

FX: Heavy door opening 

Sheriff: Alright you dogs, kneel down for Prince John. 

Prince John: Oh no, they'll get all their knees dirty. 

Sheriff: Listen scum... 

Friar: Mr Scum to you. 

Sheriff: Robin Hood! A thousand splonders, now! 

Seagoon: Quick! Blow out his candle 

FX: Fssh of candle being blown out 

Sheriff: Aggghh, you devils! Have at you! 

FX + Grams: fight sounds Neddie and Sheriff and Eccles yelling, thunps, bands

Eccles: (breathless) Alright we've finished

Seagoon: (heavy breathing) Thank you gents (Jack ???)! 

Eccles: We've finished

Seagoon: He's doing his nut there. Now you swine, had enough? 

Eccles: (Breathless) Yeah, I had enough 

Seagoon: Its Will Eccles. What are you doing in prison? 

Eccles: Six months. What are you doing? 

Friar: Then where are those two scoundrels? 

Grams: Heavy door being closed 

Eccles: Oh! 

Seagoon: They've locked us in from the outside

FX: Phone picked up 

Eccles: Do something 

Grams: Telephone being dialled 

Wallace Greenslade: Dear listeners, the sound you are hearing is an early British Telephone circa fourteen-twelve 

Norris: Hello? Robin Hood to Headquarters here 

Seagoon: Hello? Norris? 

Norris: Robin, where are you? In the nick? 

Seagoon: Yes. Listen, unless I give him a thousand golden splonders, the Sheriff is going to kill me for Christmas 

Norris: A thousand? Offer him nine-fifty and take a chance 

Seagoon: No. No, its a thousand or nothing. 

Norris: You giving me a choice? Don't worry schmulik, I'm sending a schlapper round with the geld straight away. 

Grams: Phone being hung up 

FX: Door knock 

Norris: That's him at the door now 

Seagoon: Thatís an old gag 

Norris: So? This is 1412 remember. You should get new gags now yet, already? 

Seagoon: Ying-tong-iddle-i-po-muzzletopf 

Grams: Phone being hung up again 

Seagoon: It's no good. Lou is unreliable. He let Milligan down at Eastbourne 

Eccles: I know! 

Seagoon: He might not ever send that money. We should escape at once! If not twice! 

Friar: Wait! Look up there! A high window with no barring 

Seagoon: Curse these licensing laws! 

Eccles: Wait! I got a license for climbing out of windows 

Seagoon: Splendid, young Eccles. Get against that wall. Right 

Eccles: Ok 

Seagoon: Now, Friar Balsam. You climb on his shoulders 

Friar: Right-ho, yes. 

FX: Straining noises 

Eccles: Dont hurt yourself, now! 

Friar: That's it

Eccles: Be careful:

Friar: Come up. Now Robin, come on. 

FX: Straining noises 

Seagoon: Curse! I still can't reach it. 

Eccles: I know. I'll come up and get on your shoulders, that alright?

All three talk together 

Eccles: Still can't reach. Now you get up on my shoulders, Friar Balsam 

Seagoon: And I'll get up on yours 

All three talk together from a distance 

Wallace Greenslade: (Over talking) Ladies and gentlemen. The feat now being performed is extremely dangerous and should only be done on radio by experienced idiots. Meantime a stranger is admitted to the presence of Prince John 

Grams: Running footsteps approaching 

Bluebottle: Enter Bluenbottle in doublet made from Mum's old drawers 

Sheriff: Silence! What is this sodden piece of cardboard? 

Bluebottle: Silence, or I will strike! Moves right, brandishes string sword in Sheriff's face. 

Sheriff: That string sword doesn't frighten me, lad 

Bluebottle: Ah, Doesn't it? You just wait 'til I tie a knot in it then! 

Prince John: Now! Please, stop this violence. Where's the money? 

Bluebottle: I will not give it to you until you free Robinge Hood. 

Sheriff: What? Tie him to a stake! 

Bluebottle: No! Do not tie me to a steak, I'm a vegetarian! 

Prince John: Then tie him to a stick of celery 

Bluebottle: Oo! Lovely! But, I warn you, one step nearer and I will bring the power of fists into play. Blan! Blun! Splut! I will go blin-splowee-zon hit hit-hit-hit-hit-hit. Do you know dat I learnt all my boxing off comic strips? Have you ever seen a comic strip? 

Prince John: Only in a steam bath. It was ghastly. 

Bluebottle: Oh! 

Sheriff: Come here! 

Bluebottle: Nooo-no! Let go of my set of ankles. It is Christmas. Merry Christmas! (Sings) 'Good King Wenceslas ~~~ looked out ...' 

FX: Door bursting open 

Seagoon: Drop that Bluebottle! 

Sheriff: Curses! Robin is free! 

Prince John: It's Robin Hood! I feel quite faint. 

Sheriff: I know how his men fight so take that - Blat! Splat! Blun! Zowee! Sock! Thud! 

Seagoon: What? Splinge! Carrumph! Splat! Ching! 

All cast join in with comic book fighting 

Bluebottle: (Over fighting noise) Ohhh, My captain is over there, fighting to rescue me! 

Seagoon: \/(off)/\ That's what you think! 

Sheriff: Ahh! There you are! 

Seagoon: Blat! Thud Blin! Blon! 

Bluebottle: My captain did that! 

Sheriff: Blam! 

Bluebottle: My captain copped that! 

Seagoon: Wallop! 

Bluebottle: Oww! I copped that! 

Prince John: Stop! Robin Hood, call your men off! Call them off! Do you hear me?! 

Seagoon: Come on boy (whistles) come on (whistles) 

Prince John: No, no, Please, I told you no more jokes like that. We give in. 

Sheriff: We were better on the bonks, bangs and caluds. 

Prince John: But we had so few of them 

Sheriff: You win, you devil, Robin. Give us the thousand gold splonders and a piece of holly and you can go. 

Seagoon: Here, catch. Hahaha. And let that be a lesson to you! (laughs) Come along chaps, in two. One...two. 

\Seagoon & Bluebottle & Eccles: (sing) Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen.  Robin Hood, Robin Hood with his band of men. Feared by the good, loved by the bad, Robin Hood, hows your Dad? ~~~~~~~~~~ ... (fades into drunken singing)\

\FX: clomp of footsteps\

Wallace Greenslade: Oh! I do believe they've finished. Well, I must be off, catch the bus, you know. Goodnight. 

Band starts theme music 

/{Seagoon: (Over band) Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Please, we forgot. From all of us here waist deep in the snow of Sherwood Forest, we send Christmas greetings to all the people waist deep in the snow of Canada, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand. We also send greetings to all those chest deep in snow in the...aforementioned countries. (Coughs) I'll do that again! Do you mind, Chisholm? We also send greetings to all those...I'll start again...we also send greetings...I'll start from the beginning, shall I? Thank you. Stop! Stop! (Raspberry). We forgot. From all of us here waist deep in the snow of Sherwood Forest, we send Christmas greetings to all the people waist deep in the snow of Canada, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand. We also send greetings to all those chest deep in those countries. And a merry Christmas to you all. }/

Band play theme Music 

Wallace Greenslade: That was the Goon Show. A BBC recorded program featuring Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe, Spike Milligan, Valentine Dyal and Dennis Price. \With the Ray Ellington Quartet and Max Geldray and the orchestra conducted by Wally Stott.\ Script by Spike Milligan and Larry Stevens. Announcer Wallace Greenslade. The program produced by Pat Dixon 


notes:
1) In 1191, Richard the Lionhearted's army reinforced the Crusaders in their seige of the town of Acre, a port city in what is now northern Israel, thus leading to its surrender in the following month - Footo Feb 04
2) yclept = named - K8 Jan 04
3) Going tat-tars = going on a journey - K8 Jan 04