maidservant at the washhouse, of Kuttenberg
“I scrub the dirt out of miners shirts until my hands bleed and keep a roof over the heads of the useless girls in this town. I know the value of a groschen.”
Things Bridget had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
The eve of St John before the Latin Gate, at Compline
Denise is begging for her linen back again. She refuses to admit it was a pledge for the apothecary herbs. I locked it in my chest and she will not see a single thread of it until I get my eight groschen. I do not give charity.
Nota scribaeDictated in the attic. The other maidservants were listening at the door.
The Tuesday after Easter, at None
Helena the ale-wife has packed up and gone to Prague to live with her sister. Good riddance. Half the miners and maids in this town owed her silver. Let her take her slate of debts to the city and leave us be.
Praise be. She charged too much for sour ale anyway.
The fourth day of Lent, at Sext
My mother Martha left me a carved wooden comb. It was the only thing I had of hers. Now it is gone from my chest. If one of you stupid girls swept it out with the old rushes, I swear I will throw you out in the street.
Nobody touched your comb, Bridget. We know better than to put our hands in your chest.
I saw a rat near the stairs yesterday. Maybe it carried it off.
Nota scribaeShe looked as though she might weep, though she quickly disguised it with anger.
The Tuesday after St Matthias, at Prime
The master at the washhouse tried to short my tally again. Sakra, I stood there until he marked down every shirt. Lettice says I am too harsh, but if I do not count the pennies, we will all end up destitute and coughing to death.
You yell at us before dawn even breaks. A little peace would not cost a penny.
Candlemas, at Vespers
Denise caught the winter fever and looked ready for the churchyard. I took eight groschen of my own hard coin to the apothecary for herbs to sweat it out of her. She handed me a bolt of fine linen. It is a pledge against the debt, no matter what she says.
I only asked you to keep it safe from the mice! You know Endres might send for me and I need a shift.
Pay the apothecary silver and you can have your cloth back.
Nota scribaeThe woman spoke loudly and crossed her arms the entire time.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is my cloth! You kept it while I was sick with the fever.
You would be in the dirt next to my mother if I had not paid for those herbs. Pay your debt.