—beyond our hopes—in certain, for those to whom it shall please God to grant this land for habitation; which if it had, with the other inseparable adherent commodities here to be found, then I would boldly affirm it to be the most rich, beautiful, large, and secure harboring river that the world affordeth. . . . Further, I have thought fit to add some things worthy to be regarded, which we have observed from the savages since we took them. First, although at the time we surprised them, they made their best resistance, not knowing our purpose, nor what we were, not how we meant to use them; yet, after perceiving by their kind usage we intended them no harm, they have never since seemed discontented with us, but very tractable, loving, and willing by their best means to satisfy us in any thing we demand of them, by words or signs for their understanding. Neither have they at any time been at the least discord among themselves, insomuch as we have not seen them angry, but merry, and so kind, as, if you give any thing to one of them, he will distribute part to every one of the rest. We have brought them to understand some English, and we understand much of their language, so as we are able to ask them many things.
[The Indians thus carried to England were the objects of great wonder, and crowds of people followed them in the streets. It is thought that Shakspeare may have referred to them in the Tempest, written a few years later, about 1610. Trinculo there wishes to take the monster Caliban to England, and says, ‘Not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver; there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.’]