Herre followythe a lamyntabill tragedye, ful of concytete myrthe, yclepede, a Mirroure fore magystrattis, baylyes, councylloures, and crafftessmenne: Conteynynge the ryghte dolorose, tragycalle, and deinge speeches offe somme herretoeforre famose rueleres; as alsoe, shoeinge yow cawyse of grette myrthe, howe dystresse makythe the dummbe speke wythe a wyse tonge, moche semblable untoe Balaame his asse; whyche nottede personne was the patryarche ande anncystorre offe more rueleres, magystrattis, ande the lykke, than onneste menne will thynke. Impryntede atte the costes ande chargys offe mi moste woorthye patronne, his worchyppe Aldyrmanne Thornne.

A quick smile played around her lips. "It's from Bondi Beach. Right near Sydney. In Australia, where I'm from. My mom always said I was conceived on that beach, so she gave me that name. She was a young girl then, working square, before she went on the bash. All she could tell me about my dad is that he was a soldier.

In another moment claymores and skene-dhus gleamed in the grasp of several uplifted hands; …

They, or at least many of them, for there are dissident voices here which speak another message, are also trapped in a nineteenth century mindframe which assumes the centralised nation state structures can somehow be controlled[.]