KittenOfSteel
Experienced
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2013
- Posts
- 57
"If I catch you doing that again, the headsman will get you!"
Barbara turned her back to her young brother, who had suddenly gone very quiet at the mention of the executioner. Having just turned nineteen, she was just as much a person of authority to him as her mother - and it was time that he started treating her like that! Fortunately, she had happened upon the trick with the headsman - what child wasn't afraid of the sinister, tall man in his menacing hood?
Smiling, she left him standing there and went to the river bank with her basket of laundry. It was early in spring, but the sun was already showing its full strength, making the weather ideal for drying and bleaching the white laundry on the meadows. Even from afar, she could see some other town girls there, all carrying their laundry baskets and ready to go to work. After some words of greeting towards the group, she found her best friends, Anna and Maria. With them here, the tedious work ahead of them would be much more bearable. Even on the way to the river, the three young women started exchanging gossip, especially about the mayor's fat daughter. They liked to make fun of her behind her back - pretty much all the town girls did. She had a nasty temper, but she had a good dowry. Now, the rumor went, an out-of-town gentleman, noble but down on his luck, was courting her in the hopes of adding some wealth to his title. Her father, the mayor, knowing his daughter's sour personality, and eager to finally marry her off (no one from Würzburg itself had yet proved tough - or crazy - enough to marry her), was trying to keep her bad side hidden from the man as much as possible. "That poor man, tricked into marrying the devil himself- or at least his cow", Anna laughed. Mary, the most pious of the three, gave her friend an angry look at mentioning the Unholy One. She did not like idle talk of the devil: "He is always there, waiting for you to slip up!", she would admonish them in her more serious moments. Now was not such a moment, though, and Anna barely noticed the glare.
As they were washing the clothes, Barbara could not help but notice the young men on the road next to the river bank walking past suspiciously slowly. "Gobel Babelin, the prettiest girl in town", that was what she was called by these youths. She knew it, but knew better than to let it go to her head. Without doubt, she had a tall, slender figure, long blond hair and was gifted with quite a nice face - but she left the praising of her looks to the young men. None of them had yet worked up the courage to court the prettiest girl in town, even though she knew they wanted to. For sure, there were two or three of these boys she was hoping would find courage soon - Alfred, the handsome coppersmith's son, for example, or Hans the nailmaker, who never failed to make her laugh.
Meanwhile, the girls' conversation had drifted over to the second topic which was the talk of the town: A troupe of actors had been spotted by Barbara's eagle-eyed friends making their way through the city gate. They were exotic-looking people, much more dark-skinned than the people here, and one was "a real moor, black as the devil, I was so scared to even look at him!", or so Anna insisted. None of their fathers was very fond of their daughters going to see one of the wild, ribald comedies these foreign travellers liked to perform, and the three girls knew that. So, they agreed, they would all just happen to go to the market that evening. If they saw any actors telling dirty jokes and making faces, they would of course avert their eyes and close their ears, as expected of good girls. Of course.
Laughing about their little plan for adventure, the young women continued washing the clothes. Their baskets were almost empty; their conversation had made light work of all of it. "Barbara, is it true that your grandmother ran away to the woods? I heard she's a witch now!", came Anna's taunting voice. "Oh yes! She must have gone mad from you constantly running your mouth.", Barbara replied with a grin. If there was a way to shut that girl up, no one had found it yet. How different was Maria compared to this: Shy and religious, she would one day make a good wife. She was not much of a talker, but the girls liked her for being honest and dependable. Not to mention that being friends with "the pious Maria", or even "the virgin Maria", as drunk people who were feeling blasphemous liked to call her, gave them more freedom to do what they wanted without getting into trouble. It was almost as if some of her pious reputation was rubbing off on them, keeping people from judging them too harshly. Most of all, though, the girl was friendly and polite, never failed to help her friends and never spread any nasty gossip about them (this role was filled more than adequately by Anna...)
Barbara turned her back to her young brother, who had suddenly gone very quiet at the mention of the executioner. Having just turned nineteen, she was just as much a person of authority to him as her mother - and it was time that he started treating her like that! Fortunately, she had happened upon the trick with the headsman - what child wasn't afraid of the sinister, tall man in his menacing hood?
Smiling, she left him standing there and went to the river bank with her basket of laundry. It was early in spring, but the sun was already showing its full strength, making the weather ideal for drying and bleaching the white laundry on the meadows. Even from afar, she could see some other town girls there, all carrying their laundry baskets and ready to go to work. After some words of greeting towards the group, she found her best friends, Anna and Maria. With them here, the tedious work ahead of them would be much more bearable. Even on the way to the river, the three young women started exchanging gossip, especially about the mayor's fat daughter. They liked to make fun of her behind her back - pretty much all the town girls did. She had a nasty temper, but she had a good dowry. Now, the rumor went, an out-of-town gentleman, noble but down on his luck, was courting her in the hopes of adding some wealth to his title. Her father, the mayor, knowing his daughter's sour personality, and eager to finally marry her off (no one from Würzburg itself had yet proved tough - or crazy - enough to marry her), was trying to keep her bad side hidden from the man as much as possible. "That poor man, tricked into marrying the devil himself- or at least his cow", Anna laughed. Mary, the most pious of the three, gave her friend an angry look at mentioning the Unholy One. She did not like idle talk of the devil: "He is always there, waiting for you to slip up!", she would admonish them in her more serious moments. Now was not such a moment, though, and Anna barely noticed the glare.
As they were washing the clothes, Barbara could not help but notice the young men on the road next to the river bank walking past suspiciously slowly. "Gobel Babelin, the prettiest girl in town", that was what she was called by these youths. She knew it, but knew better than to let it go to her head. Without doubt, she had a tall, slender figure, long blond hair and was gifted with quite a nice face - but she left the praising of her looks to the young men. None of them had yet worked up the courage to court the prettiest girl in town, even though she knew they wanted to. For sure, there were two or three of these boys she was hoping would find courage soon - Alfred, the handsome coppersmith's son, for example, or Hans the nailmaker, who never failed to make her laugh.
Meanwhile, the girls' conversation had drifted over to the second topic which was the talk of the town: A troupe of actors had been spotted by Barbara's eagle-eyed friends making their way through the city gate. They were exotic-looking people, much more dark-skinned than the people here, and one was "a real moor, black as the devil, I was so scared to even look at him!", or so Anna insisted. None of their fathers was very fond of their daughters going to see one of the wild, ribald comedies these foreign travellers liked to perform, and the three girls knew that. So, they agreed, they would all just happen to go to the market that evening. If they saw any actors telling dirty jokes and making faces, they would of course avert their eyes and close their ears, as expected of good girls. Of course.
Laughing about their little plan for adventure, the young women continued washing the clothes. Their baskets were almost empty; their conversation had made light work of all of it. "Barbara, is it true that your grandmother ran away to the woods? I heard she's a witch now!", came Anna's taunting voice. "Oh yes! She must have gone mad from you constantly running your mouth.", Barbara replied with a grin. If there was a way to shut that girl up, no one had found it yet. How different was Maria compared to this: Shy and religious, she would one day make a good wife. She was not much of a talker, but the girls liked her for being honest and dependable. Not to mention that being friends with "the pious Maria", or even "the virgin Maria", as drunk people who were feeling blasphemous liked to call her, gave them more freedom to do what they wanted without getting into trouble. It was almost as if some of her pious reputation was rubbing off on them, keeping people from judging them too harshly. Most of all, though, the girl was friendly and polite, never failed to help her friends and never spread any nasty gossip about them (this role was filled more than adequately by Anna...)