beggar of Kuttenberg, of Kuttenberg
“I sit on the stones and demand the wealthy look at me. Life is a bitter joke.”
Things Cackling Isabel had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the feast of St Mark, at Prime
Apollonia keeps whispering about that heavy bit of silver we found in the dirt on the march. She wants copper for it now, the greedy fool. If we two ragged women show that to a pawnbroker, the bailiff will have our hides. I won't swing from a rope for a shiny trinket.
Nota scribaeShe whispered this part and kept looking nervously over her shoulder.
the third day of Easter week, at None
Lazy Anna is whining again about the leaky roof in Albrecht's cellar. I sleep in the open alley and you don't hear me weeping about the rain. She is too soft for this harsh world, though I suppose it is a misery to pay good pennies for a damp hole.
Albrecht charges me rent for a space most men wouldn't keep a dog in. I have a right to complain.
We should all pray to the saints for dry weather, rather than bickering.
Laetare Sunday, at Vespers
I saw Martha sitting by the market cross today. Lazy cow. I remember how she sat there drinking from the water-skin while Wilhelm lay dying of the bloody flux. She let a good man die out of sheer selfishness, and I will curse her name until I am in the earth.
He was already dead, you cackling madwoman. The water wouldn't have saved him or bought him another hour.
Leave it be, Isabel. That march was a curse for us all.
Nota scribaeDictated with a great deal of shouting. The woman spat on the ground after speaking.
the feast of St Matthias, at Sext
A fat merchant stepped right over me today outside St James's. Didn't even look me in the eye, let alone drop a heller in my bowl. I hope his fine wool cloak catches fire in his sleep. Life is nothing but stepping over the weak.
God sees his greed, Isabel. Do not curse the man, the Lord will judge him.
Candlemas, at Compline
We marched out towards Kolin to wash shirts and boil kettles for the spearmen. It is miserable, dirty work, but Wilhelm shared his meager rations with me. A decent man in a world of bastards. I almost think I might find a way off this beggar's pitch.
He is just another fool with a spear going to a foolish war. Do not get attached.
Nota scribaeThe woman coughed a harsh laugh that sounded like a disease when she finished dictating.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It does us no good hidden away in your filthy rags! I am starving for bread!
You will starve on the gallows if you don't shut your mouth about it.