"Poor peasant, go back; what are your rights worth ?" "I could smash that skewer at a blow," said Daniel, flourishing his axe as if to do it; "but my rights, as you say, are not worth the hazard.
What has a poor man to do with rights?
Would you stop a man of your own rank, Squire Carne ?" "Ah, that would be a different thing indeed! Justice wears a sword, because she is of gentle birth.

Work-people with axes must not prate of rights, or a prison will be their next one.

Your right is to be disdained, young man, because you were not born a gentleman; and your duty is to receive scorn with your hat off.

You like it, probably, because your father did.

But come in, Daniel; I will not deny you of the only right an English peasant has--the right of the foot to plod in his father's footsteps.