First Peasant. That's just it! She's got the resemblance of a duchess!
Third Peasant. That be so truly. Oh Lord!
Vasíly Leoníditch (off the scene, rings, and then shouts). Gregory! Gregory!
First Peasant. Now who's that, for example, disturbing himself in such a way, if I may say so?
Tánya. That's the young master.
Third Peasant. Oh Lord! Didn't I say we'd better wait outside until the time comes?
[Silence.
Second Peasant. Is it you, Simon wants to marry?
Tánya. Why, has he been writing?
[Hides her face in her apron.