kindness.

_Col._ I know not what to think of them; that old fat governor, Harman
van Spelt, I have known long; they say he was a cooper in his country,
and took the measure of his hoops for tuns by his own belly: I love
him not, he makes a jest of men in misery; the first fat merry fool I
ever knew, that was ill-natured.

_Beam._ He's absolutely governed by this Fiscal, who was, as I have
heard, an ignorant advocate in Rotterdam, such as in England we call a
petty-fogging rogue; one that knows nothing, but the worst part of the
law, its tricks and snares: I fear he hates us English mortally. Pray
heaven we feel not the effects on't.

_Col._ Neither he, nor Harman, will dare to shew their malice to us,
now Towerson is come. For though, 'tis true, we have no castle here,
he has an awe upon them in his worth, which they both fear and
reverence.

_Beam._ I wish it so may prove; my mind is a bad prophet to me, and
what it does forbode of ill, it seldom fails to pay me. Here he comes.

_Col._ And in his company young Harman, son to our Dutch governor. I
wonder how they met.

_Enter_ TOWERSON, HARMAN _Junior, and a Skipper._

_Tow._ [_Entering, to the Skipper._] These letters see conveyed with
speed to our plantation. This to Cambello, and to Hitto this, this
other to Loho. Tell them, their friends in England greet them well;
and when I left them, were in perfect health.

_Skip._ Sir, you shall be obeyed. [_Exit Skipper._

_Beam._ I heartily rejoice that our employers have chose you for this
place: a better choice they never could have made, or for themselves,
or me.

_Col._ This I am sure of, that our English factories in all these
parts have wished you long the man, and none could be so welcome to
their hearts.

_Har. Jun._ And let me speak for my countrymen, the Dutch; I have
heard my father say, he's your sworn brother: And this late accident
at sea, when you relieved me from the pirates, and brought my ship in
safety off, I hope will well secure you of our gratitude.

_Tow._ You over-rate a little courtesy: In your deliverance I did no
more, than what I had myself from you expected: The common ties of our
religion, and those, yet more particular, of peace and strict commerce
betwixt us and your nation, exacted all I did, or could have done.
[_To_ BEAMONT.] For you, my friend, let me ne'er breathe our English
air again, but I more joy to see you, than myself to have escaped the
storm