Chapter 1 links current concerns about the ambiguities of persuasion to ancient Greek preoccupations with peithō (inducement). The chapter outlines the central contribution of the book: a recontextualization of peithō as a necessary yet dangerous force that demanded cautious attention within ancient Greek communities, particularly those committed to democracy. This study is then situated as a series of synchronic analyses of peithō as a goddess or abstract force presented throughout a breadth of textual, visual, and material source material from the archaic through the Hellenistic ages and even into late antiquity, with particular focus on Athenian evidence from the fifth and fourth centuries BCE. An analysis of Aesop’s fable of the North Wind and the Sun re-positions peithō a fraternal twin to bia (physical force) and outlines different manifestations of her coercive action. The chapter concludes with an overview of methodology and the social-psychological principles of ambiguity tolerance and psychological reactance that are used to reframe collective practices from ancient Greece as tools for fostering communal resilience before peithō’s threats.

Analysing formerly enslaved people’s 1930s’ interviews from the 1920s and 1930s, this chapter argues that enslaved people developed their own gendered, embodied and spatially defined standards for emotional expression in the US South. To control the bodies and minds of the enslaved, enslavers attempted to restrict bondspeople’s expressions of emotions. Though enslaved people navigated these rules carefully, they also developed their own emotional styles to express emotion as they needed to. In front of their enslavers and when separated from their children, enslaved women publicly expressed their grief despite enslavers’ attempts to restrict these displays. It was when away from the prying eyes of their enslavers, however, that enslaved people could express emotion as they truly desired. When engaging in religious practices on the edge of plantations, enslaved people created spaces of emotional refuge, where expressive emotional displays were encouraged. In creating these standards for emotional expression, enslaved people resisted their enslavers’ emotional restrictions, communicated their political ideologies and created spaces of emotional freedom that aided them in surviving slavery’s violence.

I frst became interested in William Dyngley in 2011 while working on the second Cambridge fascicle of An Index of Images from the Time of Chaucer to Henry VIII. What caught my eye was a catchword design used by his primary scribe. None of the twelve manuscripts bore Dyngley's name, but all were inscribed in the Peterhouse Registrum vetus as his donations to the college. Until recently Dyngley has been little known. In 1896 M. R. James frst drew attention to him in a short entry in Proceedings of the Antiquarian Society citing ‘One group of books – a set of works by SS. Augustine, Ambrose and Jerome, given by a certain William Dyngeby [sic]’ which have ‘notices of the money spent in producing the book. These notices are uniform and the items have some interest.’ The specifc detail was entered in his ensuing Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Library of Peterhouse. In 1936 H. E. Bell praised Dyngley's notices as ‘the most satisfactory records of the cost of production’ he had discovered, and in 2008 J. F. Overty published the itemised lists from five of Dyngley's manuscripts. Neither cited him by name. Virginia Davis in a paper presented at the 1999 Harlaxton Conference included Dyngley in her survey of university-educated secular clerics.

This chapter reviews the Bank of England’s use of QE since the global financial crisis. It takes stock of research from the Bank of England and elsewhere on its impact and effectiveness, drawing out the implications for monetary policy.

There was a closer relationship between the French declaration of war of 20 April 1792 and the emergence of the sans-culottes as a political force than is now apparent in modern scholarship on the French Revolution. In the nineteenth century, the ministry responsible for taking France to war, the ministry made up of the political figures subsequently labelled Girondins, was once known as the sans-culotte ministry.

In the winter of 1293, as she travelled from Canterbury, Isabella de Forz, countess of Devon and Aumale and lady of the Isle of Wight, was taken ill at Stockwell, near Lambeth. The countess was only fifty-six years of age – far from old by modern standards. It is probable that Isabella had initially hoped her condition would improve, but she continued to deteriorate. As she lay on her deathbed in November 1293, Isabella ordered her lady of the bedchamber to seal a charter which confirmed the sale of the Isle of Wight, along with other lands, to King Edward I of England. This act ended a near thirty-year struggle between Isabella and the crown for the control of this strategically important island off the Hampshire coast.

Isabella was born in July 1237, the daughter of Baldwin de Redvers (d.1245), the sixth earl of Devon, and Amice (d.1283), eldest daughter of Gilbert de Clare, earl of Gloucester and Hertford. Isabella was one of at least three children. She had a brother named Baldwin and a younger sister, Margery, who later became a nun at Lacock Abbey.

We consider the version of monadic second-order logic introduced in Hliněný’s analogue of Courcelle’s Theorem. This language establishes a natural connection between formal logics and the computational theory of hypergraphs. The theorems by Courcelle and Seese provide a framework for discussing this connection. Many of the ideas we use have their origins in the classical theorem by Büchi, Elgot, and Trakhtenbrot, showing that a set of strings forms a regular language if and only if it is defined by a monadic sentence.

The origin of the return to close convergence across the annals of C with D and E from the late tenth century until the early 1020s is obscured by the fact that none of these manuscripts were created before the mid-1040s. The block of annals describing the greater part of the reign of King Æthelred was probably authored soon after his death in 1016, and continued to c.1023. While it is likely that this block was created to augment an existing Chronicle version, the extent to which the author adapted or wrote over pre-existing annals is difficult to determine. Furthermore, the relationship between the authoring of this block and the interpolation of long annals concerning King Edgar from the 950s to the 970s is unclear, as is the place of all these annals in relation to the making or possible continuation of the Northern Recension. This chapter begins with a close reading of annals of the reign of Æthelred shared by C, D and E, discussing the contexts of their inclusion. After c.1023 these three Chronicles offer varying patterns of agreement and divergence, but generally in such a way that shows the contemporary annalistic record was neglected from this moment until after the accession of Edward the Confessor in 1042. From this later time, the annals scarcely look back to Cnut's reign, but do so very closely at the succession crisis that arose after his death. Despite sharing sources in and beyond the 1040s, and continuing to be Chronicles about kings (with an increasing interest in queens), these three versions develop individual features, suggesting different local, and even partisan, perspectives for the remainder of their records.

Prior to the Pieve’s radical renovation in the nineteenth century, Vasari’s Albergotti altarpiece decorated an altar at the end of the church’s left aisle. Its main panel depicts the Coronation of the Virgin and was originally commissioned by the Florentine Filippo Salviati for the church of San Vincenzo in Prato. This chapter investigates that early commission and the painting’s subsequent purchase by the Aretine lawyer Nerozzo Albergotti, thus providing a deeper understanding of the Albergotti altarpiece’s conception and complicated patronage history, as well as of its iconography and the ways in which Vasari adapted it to the altar in the Pieve on which it was installed.

Before 1970, media rarely addressed LGBTQ+ identity and only as a curiosity, disease, or deviation from heteronormativity, making visibility the biggest issue. The few 1960s films addressing queerness still displayed society’s intolerance. 1970s–1990s Hollywood occasionally produced queer-identified characters through straight viewpoints. There were alternatives: camp operated in gay subculture, and lesbian subculture flourished in feminist bars and events. A pivotal moment occurred when comedian Ellen DeGeneres’s 1997 sitcom Ellen depicted her coming out. However, after that media event, the show’s storytelling about her life as a lesbian led to its swift cancellation. DeGeneres then began a talk show dependent on her personal style of warmth, humor, likeability – basically, a non-threatening lesbian. Since Ellen, television regularly incorporates LGBTQ+ characters/plots due to television’s more fragmented, narrowly defined audience programming in cable channel proliferation and streaming services. Movies and cyberculture likewise more frequently adopt queer sensibilities.

In his ‘Scottish’ play, Shakespeare imagines a conversation between Macduff and Ross:

This imagined interaction not only reflects an anxiety about the consequences of Macbeth's tyranny but also suggests that, under that tyranny, Scotland had become unrecognisable from its former glory. The ability for a country to know itself – to self-reflect and recognise its character and singularity – raises some fraught questions. What is, and what was, Scotland? Moreover, how precisely did a kingdom recognise itself as distinct from other realms? These questions inform the subject of this book as they find expression in the literature of Scotland from the late-fourteenth to the mid-sixteenth century. In doing so, they examine the ways in which Scottish and northern English writers of that period signal a particular concern with the affective dimensions of memorialising Scottish history in the articulation of communal identity.

Part of a larger study on the urban experience of siege in the long twelfth century, this essay examines the preludes and onset of sieges, and the economic structures that influenced townspeople whether to resist or come to terms. In doing so, it appreciates the many fault lines amid a town's population: propertied or not, secular or ecclesiastical, young or old, etc. Blending charter evidence with narrative sources, we see towns making (or often, just enduring) deliberate clearances of urban growth in the name of defense. Rapid repairs and even wholesale restoration of town walls had to be done quickly, often by raiding a town's most substantial buildings (i.e., churches and monasteries). This necessity in turn risked alienating divine help. Should external forces be allowed in, ostensibly to help? Ties to the hinterland, such as mills and ovens, had to be reconstituted inside the defenses. Even if all this was accomplished, a town's inhabitants still had to watch the surrounding lands be despoiled and destroyed, thus imperiling their future even if they survived the immediate siege. Thus, every day, if not every hour, was an ongoing calculation whether armed resistance was worthwhile.

A millennium or so before the European Middle Ages, an Egyptian proverb noted that “the wealth of cities rests in not taking sides.” In a political landscape as fractured as that of the High Middle Ages, even determining what constituted a “side” was no simple conclusion, nor did the sides stay fixed in only one alignment.

The final act of a condemnation took place in the dining room off the main chamber of Doctors Commons and was summarised in a relatively brief document. The legal phraseology might seem long-winded, and the clerks who copied the text, being paid by the copy, earned their fees.

• • The captured ship and her master are named

• • The captor/s are named

• • No one has appeared to express interest in the capture

• • This ‘contumacious behaviour’ has left the Judge no option but to condemn the captured ship

• • This captured ship was a private ship of war with seventy-six men alive on board

Introduction

Global companies develop as internationally integrated entities, but they are not subject to a common regulatory framework. Despite being among the main contributors to greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions, these companies do not have their activities regulated in relation to climate issues either (RUGGIE 2014, 13). Although they contribute to the causes of global warming (IPCC 2007, 449), they are not obliged to assume their own share of responsibility for GHG emissions, nor are they held responsible for the consequences and impacts of climate change. In July 2022, the United Nations (UN) General Assembly declared that the right to a safe, clean, healthy, and sustainable environment is a human right (UN 2022). This resolution also recognized that climate change poses serious threats to the ability of present and future generations to effectively enjoy all human rights.

Addressing the business responsibility to respect human rights, the United Nations Human Rights Council (UNHRC) unanimously endorsed the United Nations Guiding Principles (UNGPs) in June 2011. Although it does not specifically address climate issues, the UNGPs states that businesses have a responsibility to respect internationally recognized human rights, which includes not violating human rights and addressing any negative impacts their activities may cause (UN 2011). However, these documents are voluntary and do not provide any sanctions for parties who do not respect their terms and principles.