maidservant at the junk house, of Kuttenberg
“I wash the linen and sweep the yard for this miserable house, and get no thanks for it.”
Things Elizabeth had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
That jumped-up girl Anna has locked my bone comb in her chest! She says it is a lawful pawn for a ceramic bowl that shattered in the wash, but that bowl had a hairline crack in it since Martinmas. It gave out in the hot water. I want my comb back, it is my only piece of finery!
Nota scribaeShe waved her hands so much while speaking that she nearly knocked over the inkwell.
the feast of Saint Pancras, at Sext
If Adleta thinks I am going to speak to her first, she is sorely mistaken. It has been a year since that business with the baker's apprentice, and I was the one wronged! The whole town knows it, even if she hides away in the weaver's house.
Christ almighty, give it a rest. We are sick to death of hearing about Adleta.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Thomas has been skulking around the yard like a frightened sheep lately. I suspect he is up to no good, but I have enough floors to scrub without watching him too. My back aches from the endless bending and hauling.
Mind your own scrubbing, Elizabeth. I have my own burdens to carry.
Nota scribaeDictated while she was wringing out a heavy linen sheet.
the third Sunday of Lent, at None
John the hired hand is hiding in the workshop again, terrified the bailiff's clerk Wenceslas will send him to the earthworks. He is nothing but a loud-mouthed drunk, leaving me to sweep the dust blowing in from the street while he cowers among the rusted tools.
I am mending a hoe! The earthworks are no place for a woodcutter anyway.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Terce
My hands are red and raw from the lye soap. Every day peasants bring rusted farm tools for the shop, and John the merchant takes the best coin while I do all the sweating. Old Geoffrey never would have let the yard get this dirty.
I sell the scrap, Elizabeth. You just wash the dirt off it. Know your place.
Nota scribaeShe sighed dramatically before uttering every sentence.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You dropped it on the flagstones while gossiping over the fence, Elizabeth. Pay for the bowl and you shall have your comb.
I did no such thing! You are a thief, plain and simple!