the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Otto pawned Thomas's padded coif to Adleta for three pitchers of ale, and now Thomas is threatening to break his jaw. I am the Captain, I will not spend my time settling ale-debts. Let them fight it out in the dirt.
Nota scribaeHe gripped his belt the entire time he spoke. I feared he would pull his sword on a stray dog.

It was my best coif, kurva! Tell him to get it back from the strongbox.
I was thirsty, Thomas. The Lord forgives.