Dennis Moore

This sketch appeared originally in Monty Python's Flying Circus, Series 3, Show 11, "Dennis Moore." We have made some changes to separate it from the rest of the episode and also a few just for fun. Many of the images on this page come courtesy of Monty Python's Flying Circus in Australia, a very large site with a whole lot of pictures on it. Thus they will only work when their page is working. You can link to their site from the Links page. There is a song which goes with this sketch, and if you want to sing along you should get the MIDI. And now, the tale of Dennis Moore.

Voiceover : England, 1747.

(Slow pan across idyllic countryside. We see a stately eighteenth-century coach galloping down a dirt roach. Suddenly a sharp voice rings out.)

Dennis Moore : Stand and deliver!

(The coach slows down and wobbles, as its driver fumbles for his pistol.)

Drop that gun!

(A gunshot.)

Coachman : Aaagghh!

(A female scream. The driver falls limply off the coach.)

Moore : Let that be a warning to you all.

(The coach is by now completely stopped. We see Dennis Moore, a highwayman with long brown hair and a black mask upon a tall horse. He brandishes two pistols and looks threatening.)

You move at your peril, for I have two pistols here. I know one of them isn't loaded any more, but the other one is, so that's one of you dead for sure. Or just about for sure anyway. It certainly wouldn't be worth your while risking it because I'm a very good shot. I practice every day. Well, not absolutely every day, but most days in the week. I expect I must practice, oh, at least four or five times a week... or more, really, but some weekends, like last weekend, there really wasn't the time, so that brings the average down a bit. I should say it's a solid four days' practice a week. At least... I mean...

(The fairly well-to-do-looking inhabitants of the coach peer out at Mr. Moore. They look a bit lost.)

I reckon I could hit that tree over there. Er... the one just behind that hillock. The little hillock, not the big hillock, the little hillock on the left ... ah, you see the three trees over there? Well, the third from the left and back a bit - that one - I reckon I could hit that four times out of five ... on a good day. Say with this wind ... say, say, seven times out of ten ...

Squire : What, that tree there?
Moore : Which one?

Squire : The big beech with the sort of bare branch coming out of the top left.
Moore : No, no, no, not that one.

Girl : No, no, he means the one over there. Look, you see that one there.

Squire : Yes.

Girl : Well now, go two along to the right.

Coachman : Just near that little bush.

Girl : Well, it's the one just behind it.

Squire : Ah! The elm.

Moore : No, that's not an elm. An elm's got sort of great clumps fo leaves like that. That's either a beech, a hornbeam, or, ah ...

Parson : A larch?

Girl : No, no.

Moore : No, that was another series. No, what's the... the one like that with the leaves that are sort of regularly veined and the veins go right out with sort of um...

Girl : Serrated?

Moore : ...serrated edges?

Parson : A willow!

Moore : Yes.

Parson : That's nothing like a willow.

Moore : Well, it doesn't matter, anyway. I can hit it seven times out of ten, that's the point.

Parson : Never a willow.

Moore : Shut up! It's a hold-up, not a bleeding botany lesson. Now, no false moves please. I want you to hand over all the lupins you've got.

Squire : Lupins?

Moore : Yes, lupins. Come on, come on!

Parson : What do you mean, lupins?

Moore : Don't try to play for time.

Parson : I'm not! You mean... the flower 'lupin?'

Moore : Yes, that's right.

Squire : But we haven't got any lupins.

Girl : Honestly!

Moore : Look, my fine friends. I happen to know that this is the Lupin Express.

Squire : You must be out of your tiny mind.

(The others nod assent. Moore is less than pleased.)

Moore : Get out the coach!

(They shuffle about awkwardly.)

Come on, come on!

(He points his pistols and they all dejectedly file out of the coach. The highwayman reaches into the coach and pulls out a small handful of brightly colored flowers of the bluebonnet family.)

Just as I thought!

Squire : Damn!

Girl : Oh, here you are.

(They all reach into their personal stashes and produce a large vaseful of Moore's desired flora.)

Moore : In a bunch, in a bunch!

Squire : Sorry.

Moore : Come on, Concorde!

(He hops upon his horse, lupins in hand, and gallops off into the forest. A chorus sings his praise to the tune of an old "Robin Hood" theme...)

Chorus : (sings) Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
galloping through the sward,
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
and his horse Concorde.
He steals from the rich, he gives to the poor,
Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore.

(As the song ends Moore arrives at a small, beat-up-looking cottage and hands the flowers to a bewildered peasant.)

Moore : Here you are. I'll be back.

(He hops back on his horse and rides off.)

(SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'THE END')

(Pull back to reveal 'The End' is on a small television set. The words fade out and the BBC globe logo appears.)

Voiceover : On BBC 2 now Episode 3 of 'George I,' the new 116-part serial about the famous English King who hasn't been done yet.

(Music starts. Picture of Royal crest.)

(SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'GEORGE I')

(The word 'Charles' below the crest has been crossed out and 'George I' written above it.)

(CAPTION: 'EPISODE 3 : THE GATHERING STORM')

(This looks very dog-cared and thumb-printed. Cut to studio set of an eighteenth-century ballroom. Some dancing is going on. A fop is talking to two ladies in the usual phony mouthing manner. They laugh meaninglessly.)

Grantley : Ah! 'Tis my lord of Buckingham. Pray welcome, Your Grace.

Buckingham : Thank you, Grantley.

Grantley : Ladies, may I introduce to you the man who prophesied that a German monarch would soon embroil this country in continental affairs.

First Lady : Oh, how so, my lord?

Buckingham : Madam, you will recall that prior to his accession our gracious sovereign George had become involved in the long standing Northern War, through his claims to Bremen and Verdun. These duchies would provide an outlet to the sea of the utmost value to Hanover. The Treaty of Westphalia has assigned them to Sweden.

Grantley : In 1648.

Buckingham : Exactly.

Grantley : Meanwhile, Frederick William of Denmark, taking advantage of the absence of Charles XII, seized them ... 1712.

Second Lady: Oh yes!

First Lady : It all falls into place. More wine?

Grantley : Oh, thank you.

Buckingham : However, just prior to his accession, George had made an alliance with Frederick William of Prussia, on the grounds of party feeling.

Grantley : While Frederick William had married George's only daughter.

First Lady : I remember the wedding.

Buckingham : But chiefly through concern at the concerted action against Charles XII...

(There is a crash as Dennis Moore swings through the window on a rope. Everyone gasps and screams. He lands spectacularly.)

Moore : Stand and deliver!

All : Dennis Moore!

Moore : The same. And now my lords, my ladies ... your lupins, please.

(General bewilderment and consternation.)

Buckingham : Our what?

Moore : Oh, come come, don't play games with me, my Lord of Buckingham.

Buckingham : What can you mean?

Moore : (putting pistol to his head) Your life or your lupins, my lord!

(Buckingham and the rest of the gathering now produce a large array lupins which they have secreted about their several persons. They offer them to Moore.)

Moore : In a bunch, in a bunch! (they arrange them in a bunch) Thank you my friends, and now a good evening to you all.

(He grabs the rope, is hurled into the air and disappears out of the window. There is a bump, a whinny and the sound of galloping hooves. The guests rush to the window to watch him disappear.)

Grantley : He seeks them here ... he seeks them there ... he seeks those lupins everywhere. The murdering blackguard! He's taken all our lupins.

First Lady : (producing one from her garter) Not quite.

(Gasps of delight.)

Buckingham : Oh, you tricked him!

Man: We still have one! (they all cheer)

(Cut to a similar montage as before of Moore galloping through forest, clearings and tiny villages. Song as follows.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
Riding through the night.
Soon every lupin in the land
Will be in his mighty hand
He steals them from the rich
And gives them to the poor
Mr Moore, Mr Moore, Mr Moore.

(Towards the end of this he arrives at the same peasant's cottage as before, dismounts and runs to the cottage door. He pauses, and puts his ear to the door. From inside the cottage we hear quiet moaning. Cut to inside the cottage. In this rude hut, lit by a single candle, the female peasant lies apparently dying on a bunk. Lupins are everywhere, in the fire, on the bed... a large pile of them forms a pillow. The female peasant is moaning and the male peasant is kneeling beside her offering her a lupin. Moore enters slowly.)

Male Peasant : (dressed largely in a lupin suit) Try and eat some, my dear. It'll give you strength.

(Dennis Moore reverently approaches the bed; the male peasant looks round and sees him.)

Oh Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore, she's going fast.

Moore : (smiling) Don't worry, I've... I've brought you something.

Male Peasant : Medicine at last?

Moore : Nope.

Male Peasant : Food?

Moore : Nnnnnope.

Male Peasant : Some blankets perhaps... clothes... wood, for the fire?

Moore : Nope.

(He pulls out an entire armful of...)

Lupins!

Male Peasant : (exploding) Oh CHRIST!

Moore : (astonished) I thought you liked them.

Male Peasant : I'm sick to bloody DEATH of them!

Female Peasant : So am I!

Male Peasant : She's bloody dying and all you bring us is lupins! All we've eaten, mate, for the last four bleeding weeks is lupin soup, roast lupin, steamed lupin, braised lupin in lupin sauce, lupin in the basket with sauteed lupins, lupin meringue pie, lupin sorbet! We sit on lupins, we sleep in lupins, we feed the cat on lupins, we BURN lupins, we even WEAR the bloody things!

Moore : (meekly) It looks very smart.

Male Peasant : Oh SHUT UP! We're sick to death with the stench of them.

(Sound of a meow and then a thump. We see a dead cat with telltale pollen around its mouth.)

LOOK! The cat's just CHOKED itself to death on them! I don't care if I never see another lupin until the day I die! Why don't you go out and steal something useful!

Moore : L-like what?

Male Peasant : Like gold and silver and clothes and wood and jewels and...

Moore : Hang on, I'll get a piece of paper.

(Cut to a montage of shots of Moore riding away from the hut over which we hear the song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
Dum dum dum the night.
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
Dum de dum dum plight.
He steals dum dum dum
And dum dum dum dum dum deeee
Dennis dum
Dennis dee
Dum dum dum...

(Cut back to the ballroom to find the same fops discussing British history.)

Buckingham : This, coupled with the presence of Peter and his Prussians at Mecklenburg and Charles and his Swedes in Pomerania, made George and Stanhope eager to come to terms with France.

Grantley : Meanwhile, a breach had now opened with...

(Dennis Moore swings in as before.)

Grantley : Oh no, not again.

Buckingham : Come on.

Moore : Stand and deliver again! Your money, your jewelry, your ... hang on. (he takes out a list) Your clothes, your snuff, your ornaments, your glassware, your pussy cats...

Buckingham : (aside to the first lady) Don't say anything about the lupins.

Moore : Your watches, your lace, your spittoons...

(Cut to a montage pretty much as before but with Moore riding through the glades dragging behind him a really enormous bag marked with 'swag' in ornate Old English lettering. This bag is about twenty feet long and bumps along the ground behind the home with the appropriate sound effects to make it sound full of valuable jewels, gold, silver, etc. Song as follows.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
Riding through the woods.
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore
With a bag of things.
He gives to the poor and he takes from the rich
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore.

(As he arrives at the poor peasants' cottage they run out. They all open the bag together to their enormous and immeasurable joy.)

Moore : Here we are, no fear.

(SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'THE END')

(Cut to close up of a man's face.)

McGough : Here we are indeed. Yet fear, not like an aged florin, can so disseminate men's eyes, that fortune, straining at a kissing touch may stop her ceaseless search to sport amidst the rampant thrust of time, and bring the thing undone to pass by that with which the cock may chance an arm.

(Cut to a wider shot to show that he is in an off-licence. Mr. Bones is behind the counter.)

Mr. Bones : Well that's all very well, sir, but this is an off-licence.

McGough : Oh. Just a bottle of sherry then, please.

Mr. Bones : Just one bottle, sir?

McGough : Just one bottle. Just one jot. Just one tittle. That's the lot.

Mr. Bones : There we are, sir. That'll be a pound, please.

McGough : A pound a pound and all around abound
A pound found found
Lost lost the cost till was't embossed...

Mr Bones: Excuse me, sir, are you a poet?

McGough : No, no, I'm a solicitor... well versed within the written law of man, can those who need...

Mr. Bones : Oh, shut up.

McGough : I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've caught poetry.

Mr. Bones : Oh really? Well, don't worry, sir - I used to suffer from short stories.

McGough : Really? When?

Mr. Bones : Oh, once upon a time ...

(Pause. He shakes and begins to talk very quickly.)

... there lived in Wiltshire a young chap called Dennis Moore. Now Dennis was a highwayman by profession ...

(We ripple through to Mr. Moore riding along with a big bag of swag.)

... and for several months he had been stealing from the rich to give to the poor. One day...

(Mix through to a shot of Dennis Moore arriving with another bag of goodies. The peasants who greet him are by now very smartly dressed and the cottage has been refurbished.)

Moore : Here we are again, Mr Jenkins. (Dennis leaves the bag and turns his horse around) There we are... I'll be back.

(He rides off again purposefully. Cut to the same ballroom, with the same fops. But there is now a change... the walls are bare and the people are down to their undergarments. They sit around the table gnawing pieces of bread and dipping them in a watery soup. The central bowl of soup contains a lupin.)

Buckingham : Meanwhile Frederick William Bushy engaged in defending against the three great powers the province of Silesia...

Grantley : ... which he had seized in the War of the Austrian succession, against his word.

First Lady : Yes, I remember.

Man: Now dependent on Pitt's subsidies...

(Moore swings in through the window. They all respond to him with listless moans of disappointment.)

Moore : My lords, my ladies, on your feet, please.

(He is ignored, and therefore says commandingly:)

I must ask you to do exactly as I say or I shall be forced to shoot you right between the eyes.

(they stand up hurriedly)

Well not right between the eyes, I mean when I say between the eyes, obviously I don't have to be that accurate, I mean, if I hit you in that sort of area, like that, obviously, that's all right for me, I mean, I don't have to try and hit a point bisecting a line drawn between your pupils or anything like that. I mean, from my point of view, it's perfectly satisfactory...

First Lady : What do you want? Why are you here?

Moore : Why are any of us here? I mean, when you get down to it, it's all so meaningless, isn't it, I mean what do any of us want...

Buckingham : No, no, what do you want now?

Moore : Oh I see, oh just the usual things, a little place of my own, the right girl...

Grantley : No, no, no! What do you want from us?

Moore : Oh sorry. Ah, your gold, your silver, your jewelry...

Buckingham : You've taken it all.

First Lady : (pointing to spoons) This is all we've got left.

Moore : That's nice. I'll have them. Come on. (he takes all the spoons)

Buckingham : You'd better take the bloody lupin too.

Moore : Thank you very much, I've gone through that stage. (he grabs the rope and swings out again)

(Short montage of Dennis riding accompanied by the song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore
Etcetera, etcetera...

(He leaps off his home and runs to the door of the hut, throws the door open and enters. The little hut is now stuffed with all possible signs of wealth and all imaginable treasures.)

Male Peasant : What you got for us today then?

Moore : Well, I've managed to find you four very nice silver spoons, Mr. Jenkins.

(He snatches them up rudely.)

Male Peasant : Who do you think you are, giving us poor this rubbish?

Female Peasant : Bloody silver. Won't have it in the house. (throws it away) And those candlesticks you got us last week were only sixteen carat.

Male Peasant : Yes, why don't you go out and steal something nice, like some Venetian silver?

Female Peasant : Or a Velasquez for the outside loo.

Moore : Oh, all right. (turns purposefully)

(Usual montage of Dennis Moore riding plus song.)

Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore
Riding through the land
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore
Without a merry band
He steals from the poor, and gives to the rich
... Stupid bitch.

(Moore reins to a sudden halt and rides over to the camera.)

Moore : What did you sing?

Singers : (speaking, a bit worriedly) We sang... he steals from the poor and gives to the rich?

Moore : (looking down) Wait a tic ... blimey, this redistribution of wealth is trickier than I thought.

(Run the usual clip of the women's institute applauding.)

(SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'THE END')

Voiceover : (high-pitched and campy) The End? I won't hear it! Get it off!

(Caption disappears.)

There, now that's better. Now, on with our story, as Dennis Moore, the dangerous and very attractive highwayman sets back out on another journey, his long auburn hair blowing in the breeze... Ooh hoo!

(A gunshot rings out.)

Aaggh!

(He dies. Cut to a poofy highwayman with a pink mask, blowing smoke from a small gun.)

Highwayman : (Even campier) I never did like that kind of person.

(gunshot.)

Oh!

(He dies. Cut to Dennis Moore on a horse blowing smoke from gun and putting it in his holster.)

Moore : (to camera) Far be it for me to discriminate, but they couldn't think of a better link.

(He gallops off. We see him swooping down, after a couple of riding shots, on another stagecoach.)

Moore : Halt! Halt!

(The stage comes to a halt and the occupants get out rapidly, their hands held high.)

Gentlemen, ladies, bring out your valuables please. Come along sir, come along. Come along, madam, come along. Oh, is that all you've got? ... Well, he's got much more than you ... so you'd better have some of his ...

(He transfers money from one passenger to another. He drops some...)

... Sorry... pick them up in a moment... there's about, oh, what, nine down there... so you must have about... oh, he's still got lots... oh you've got what? ... You've got more than he started with... so if I give you some of those (transferring more coins) ... well now, look ... have you got a bit of jewelry? If I give you that one and you have some of his coins...

(the credits start, superimposed)

... Is that another box? Were you trying to hide it? Well, that's nice! Right! Now. I've got a tiara ... you've got one... you've got one of the boxes... you've got one... anyone else got a tiara? Take your hat off! (passenger does so to reveal a tiara)... Oh, honestly, it's absolutely pointless trying to do this if you're going to cheat. It really is awful of you...

(Fade out.)

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