JUDGE (spoken):
Walk home with me,
For I have news for you.
In order to shield her from the evils of this world,
I have decided to marry Johanna next Monday.

BEADLE (spoken):
Ah, sir!
Happy news, indeed!

JUDGE (spoken):
Strange...
When I offered myself to her,
She showed a certain reluctance.

BEADLE (sung):
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 (spoken):
Stubble, you say?
Perhaps at times I am a little over-hasty with my morning ablutions,

BEADLE:
Fret not though, my lord!
I know a place, my lord
A barber, my lord, of skill!
Thus armed with a shaven face, my lord
Some older cologne to brace, my lord
And musk to enhance the chase, my lord
You'll dazzle the girl until...

JUDGE (spoken):
Until?

BEADLE:
She bows to your every will.

JUDGE (spoken):
Perhaps you may be right!
Take me to him!

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