Tánya (aside). He'll sign it; you'll see he will.... Have some more.
[Pours out tea.
First Peasant. If only you get this business about the sale of the land settled, the Commune would pay your marriage expenses.
[Refuses the tea.
Tánya (pouring out tea). Do have another cup.
Third Peasant. You get it done, and we'll arrange your marriage, and I myself, let's say, will dance at the wedding. Though I've never danced in all my born days, I'll dance then!
Tánya (laughing). All right, I'll be in hopes of it.
[Silence.
Second Peasant (examines TÁNYA). That's all very well, but you're not fit for peasant work.
Tánya. Who? I? Why, don't you think me strong enough? You should see me lacing up my mistress. There's many a peasant couldn't tug as hard.