Liber Vultuum
Liber Vultuum, volumen Kuttenbergensefol. 77r
Portrait of Thomas

Thomas

hired hand, of Malesov

“I do the heavy lifting here while the young whoresons stand around.”

Quid vis scribi?The scribe is at Vespers. Come back after, and bring him a candle.

Dicta

Things Thomas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.

the Wednesday before Ascension, at Vespers

Three pennies gone from the kitchen and I know which young whoreson took them. Richard says he does not know, but I smell the ale on him. John does nothing. If old Godfrey were alive he would take a stick to the lad.

  • Richard
    Richard

    You are a liar, old man. I was chopping logs all day.

  • Constance
    Constance

    I will count the coins myself. Both of you get back to work.

Nota scribaeHe stared at Richard across the yard the entire time I wrote this.

the third day of Easter week, at Prime

Peter is demanding five groschen because the rough-haired yard dog got loose and killed two of his white doves. Five groschen! We do not have it. The beast broke the fence I just mended. I will not pay a single penny for those birds.

  • John
    John

    We must find the coin, Thomas. Peter will go to the magistrate.

  • Thomas
    Thomas

    Let him go. I mend the fences, I do not watch the hounds.

the morrow of St Gregory, at None

My back is breaking from hauling grain since dawn, and what do I get for it? A bowl of Matilda's cabbage soup. It tastes like river mud and sorrow. The young lads stand about watching me work.

  • Matilda
    Matilda

    If you do not like the soup, you can starve, you ungrateful whoreson.

Nota scribaeDictated beside the cooking fire. The maidservant looked furious.

the Monday after St Matthew, at Compline

I am still waiting for an apology. We shared a jug of dark ale, we ran a footrace, and he tripped me on purpose. The ale was spilled and my knee is bruised. Wenceslas is a cheating whoreson and owes me for the drink.

  • Wenceslas (no portrait was pasted in for this person)
    Wenceslas

    You tripped over your own feet because you were drunk, Thomas. I owe you nothing.

  • William Mercer
    William Mercer

    We are all tired of hearing about the spilled ale. Let it rest.

Candlemas, at Sext

Another bitter morning. The frost is thick and John is a soft overseer. He lets the men sleep while the work piles up. I miss the old master. Godfrey knew how to run a yard and make a man earn his keep.

Nota scribaeHe muttered this while carrying two heavy sacks of grain.

From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.