Servants' Cook. And what next? The music strikes up, and each man of 'em went up to his own, catches hold of her, and off they go twirling round and round!
Second Peasant. The old women, too?
Servants' Cook. Yes, the old ones, too.
Simon. No, the old ones sit still.
Servants' Cook. Get along,—I've seen it myself!
Simon. No, they don't.
Discharged Cook (in a hoarse voice, looking down from the oven). That's the Polka-Mazurka. You fools don't understand what dancing is. The way they dance....
Servants' Cook. Shut up, you dancer! And keep quiet—there's some one coming.
[Enter GREGORY; old COOK hides hurriedly.
Gregory (to SERVANTS' COOK). Bring some sour cabbage.