By right they should all be split up into little plots to grow our potatoes.

Away with gilded coronet and watchman, batter down these walls, burn the ancient deeds and archives, put pick and lever to the tall church tower; let us have the rights of man! These violent ebullitions make not the least different.

All the insults they can devise, all the petty obstructions they can set up, the mud they can fling, does not alter the calm course of the 'despot' one jot.

The artesian well is bored, and they can drink pure water or not, as pleases them.

The prizes are offered, and they can compete or stand aloof.