Judge:
I have news for you, my friend. In order to shield her
from the evils of this world I have decided to marry my
dear Johanna.
Beadle:
Oh, sir, happy news indeed!
Judge:
Strange, though. When I offered myself to her she
showed a certain... reluctance.
Beadle:
Excuse me, my lord, may I request, my lord, permission,
my lord, to speak
Forgive me if I suggest, my lord, you're looking less
than your best, my lord
There's powder upon your vest, my lord, and stubble
upon your cheek
And ladies, my lord, are weak
Judge:
Stubble, you say? Perhaps I am a little over-hasty in
the mornings
Beadle:
Fret not though, my lord, I know a place, my lord,
a barber, my lord, of skill
Thus art with a shaven face, my lord
Some eau de cologne to place, my lord
And to enhance the chase, my lord
You'll dazzle the girl until...
Judge:
Until?
Beadle:
She bows to your every will
Judge:
A barber? Take me to him