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

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