offered myself
to her she showed a certain... reluctance.
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.
Stubble, you say?
Perhaps at times I am a little
overhasty with my morning ablutions...
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 brace my lord
And musk to enhance the chase, my lord,
You'll dazzle the girl until
she bows to your every will.
A barber, eh? Take me to him.
His name is Todd, my lord.
And he is the very
last word in barberin'.
You ought to slow down a bit, lad.
It'll go to your head.
They used to give it to us at the
workhouse, so's we could sleep.
Not that you'd ever want to
sleep in that place, ma'am.
Not with the things
that happen in the dark.
That's nice, dear...
I think I'll just pop in
on Mr. Todd for a tick.
You'll be all right here?
Leave the bottle.
Gawd, the lad is drinking
me out of house and home,
how long until Pirelli gets back?
He won't be back.
Mr. T., you didn't!
You're barking mad!
Killing a man wot done you no harm!
He recognized me from the old days.
He tried to blackmail
me - half me earnings.
Oh well, that's a different matter!
For a moment there I thought
you'd lost your marbles!
Ooooh! All that blood!
Poor bugger. Oh, well.
Well, waste not, want not...
So...
What are we going to
do about the boy then?
Send him up.
Oh, we don't need to worry
about him, he's a simple thing.
Send him up.
Now, Mr. T., surely
one's enough for today.
'Sides, I was thinking about hiring
a lad to help around the shop,
me poor knees not being
what they used to be.
All right.
'Course we'll have to
stock up on the gin,
the boy drinks like a Barbary sailor -
The Judge.
Get out.
Get out!
Mr. Todd?
At your service...
An honor to receive
your patronage, my lord.
You know me, sir?
Who in this wide world does
not know the great Judge Turpin?
These premises are hardly prepossessing
and yet the Beadle tells me
you are the most accomplished
of all the barbers in the city.
That is gracious of him, sir...
And what may I do for you today, sir?
A stylish trimming of the hair?
A soothing skin massage?
Sit, sir. Sit.
You see, sir, a man
infatuate with love,
her ardent and eager slave.
So fetch the pomade and pumice stone
and lend me a more seductive tone,
a sprinkling perhaps of French cologne,
But first, sir, I think - a shave.
The closest I ever gave.
You're in a merry mood today, Mr. Todd.
'Tis your delight, sir, catching fire
from one man to the next.
'Tis true, sir, love can still inspire
the blood to pound,
the heart leap higher.
What more, what more can man require-
Than love, sir?
More than love, sir.
What, sir?
Women.
Ah yes, women.
Pretty women.
Now then, my friend.
Now to your purpose.
Patience, enjoy it.
Revenge can't be taken in haste.
Make haste, and if we wed,
you'll be commended, sir.
My lord...
And who, may it be said,
is your intended, sir?
My ward.
And pretty as a rosebud.
Pretty as her mother?
What? What was that?
Oh, nothing, sir. Nothing.
May we proceed?
Pretty women...
Fascinating...
Sipping coffee, Dancing...
Pretty women
are a wonder.
Pretty women.
Sitting in the window or
standing on the stair,
Something in them cheers the air.
Pretty women...
Silhouetted...
Stay within you...
Glancing...
Stay forever...
Breathing lightly...
Pretty women...
Pretty women!
Blowing out their candles or
combing out their hair...
Then they leave...
Even when they leave you
and vanish, they somehow
can still remain
there with you,
they're there.
Ah, pretty women...
At their mirrors...
In their gardens...
Letter-writing...
Flower-picking...
Weather-watching...
How they