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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.
Oh, sir, happy news indeed!
Strange, though.
When I offered myself to her,
She showed a certain... reluctance.
(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.
(Spoken)
Stubble, you say?
Perhaps I am a little overhasty in the mornings.
(Sung)
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 eau de cologne to grace, my lord,
And musk to enhance the chase, my lord,
You'll dazzle the girl until...
(Spoken) Until?
She bows to your every will.
(Spoken) Barber? Take me to him.