Liber Vultuum
Liber Vultuum, volumen Kuttenbergensefol. 173r
Portrait of Constance

Constance

housekeeper at Malesov, of Malesov

“I manage the yard, the accounts, and the hired hands at Malesov number six. It is a heavy burden, but I keep this house standing.”

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

Dicta

Things Constance had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.

the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers

My copper jug has been missing since Martinmas. I know exactly where it is, wrapped in a dirty sack under a certain housemaid's cot. I will not stoop to drag it out myself. She will hand it to me and confess, or the whole house will eat cold cabbage.

  • Matilda
    Matilda

    I never took it. The sack has nothing but old linen in it, I swear by the saints.

  • Constance
    Constance

    Then fetch it out and unfold it in the yard for all to see.

Nota scribaeThe woman spoke very quietly, but her eyes were like flint.

the feast of St Mark, at None

Good iron is not a crowbar. I caught young Richard using a broad spade to pry at the stuck cellar door. I have locked the tool in the pantry. He will not see it again until he shows some respect for this house.

  • Richard
    Richard

    I bought that spade with my own wage at Michaelmas!

  • Constance
    Constance

    I gave you the three groschen for the garden. The spade belongs to the pantry.

the Monday after Easter, at Prime

Peter is demanding five groschen because our dog Brok caught two of his white doves. The man hides behind his iron grate and expects honest people to pay for birds too stupid to fly away. He will not see a single penny from my strongbox.

  • John
    John

    Aye, let the miser count his feathers. Brok is a good dog.

the feast of St Gregory, at Terce

I watched the men loitering by the ash pit this morning instead of chopping wood. If my late husband Godfrey were alive, he would have taken a stick to their backs. My brother John is too soft on them. At least my son William has a decent trade in town.

  • William Mercer
    William Mercer

    Do not fret yourself over the yard, Mother. My stall is doing well enough.

Nota scribaeDictated while she inspected a row of cooking pots.

the morrow of Candlemas, at Compline

The wind howls through the kitchen. I count the pennies by the tallow candle, and they do not add up as they should. Sleep is a long time coming these nights. There are old things locked in my chest that weigh heavy on my mind.

  • Anna
    Anna

    A cup of warm milk with honey will settle your humours, Constance. The winter is hard on us all.

  • Richard
    Richard

    Some old things are better put to the fire.

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