hired hand at the storehouse, of Bylany
“I do the work of three men hauling heavy sacks, while the master sits soft in Kuttenberg.”
Things Gilbert had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
The Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
My back is screaming today. I swear, if I dig up a hoard of silver groschen in the field, I am throwing my lifting hook straight into the river. I would buy a tavern and never look at another sack again. Tell Zdenyek I saved him a bruised apple.
Nota scribaeDictated while waving his hands so much he knocked over my ink.
The third day of Easter week, at None
Cecily chased me out of her yard with a broom today because of some mud on my boots. By Christ's wounds, a man works his fingers to the bone in the dirt and cannot even sit for his supper in peace. The ale was good, though.
Next time you track pig shit into my clean yard, I will use the heavy end of the broom.
The Friday before Easter, at Prime
Anthony has been called up for the levy and marched away to Prague. Up there with the King's troubles and the soldiers. I suppose I should have just swept up that grain last month. Let it drop. If the Hungarians cut him down, who will pay for the sack?
He took his cart with him. We will miss the wheels, even if he drives like a blind fool.
God keep him safe. Even if he was a loudmouth who never wiped his feet.
Nota scribaeHe spat in the dirt after saying this.
The feast of St Benedict, at Sext
Young Zdenyek is still saving forty groschen for a sword. It is a child's fancy. The soldiers on the roads would take it from him in a day. He should buy bread instead. His poor mother Marushka left him a good name, but a name does not fill your belly.
My mother would want me to be a man grown, Gilbert. A real guard needs a real blade.
The Tuesday after Candlemas, at Terce
That blind fool Anthony ran his cart wheels straight over a freshly patched sack of grain, bursting it open in the street! By Christ's wounds, I demanded he pay for it out of his own pouch. He screamed at me like a stuck pig. I will not speak to him again.
You left the sack in the mud, you dog! I could not steer around your mess!
My hook will find your nose if you show your face in the yard again!
Nota scribaeThe dictating took until Sext, as they were still shouting at each other.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
God bless you, Gilbert. I will come by the gate for it before Compline.