Noblesse oblige? You bet!

Defer, peasants! You might be dealing here with a scion of the landed gentry.
I always suspected that my thin wrists and ankles betokened aristocratic ancestry, and it seems that there is a chance I am right: I just came across a reference to one Sir Henry Allsop of Alsop-en-le-Dale in Derbyshire (reputedly the fons et origo of the whole clan, regardless of the number of l's and p's in the name). If there's a Sir Henry, no reason why there shouldn't be a Sir OldScrote Allsop, entitled to a coat of arms, a Manor to be Lord of, and all that flows therefrom.
The bit of flow therefrom that I particularly want to explore is the droit de seigneur known as Ius Primae Noctis, whereby the Lord of the Manor has the right, and indeed the duty, to roger every bride on her first night in order to satisfy himself that she is a virgin. You know me, I would take such a responsibility seriously: as we aristos say, noblesse oblige.
Now, as to my escutcheon: I guess I will go for something with an animal on it, a camelopard or a hippogriff maybe, but whatever it is, it will definitely be rampant.