I spake to him in the tongue of Franke [The Lingua Franca of the Mediterranean shore], and called him to me. I, having my hatchet in my hand, cast it from me.
He came unto me; and, taking me by the hand, demanded very gently, What I would have?
I, perceiving that he did, even at the first sight, pity my poor and miserable estate, told him all things that had happened unto me: how I was an Englishman; how I had been captive in Argire; how I chanced to come to Genoa; their sending me to Majorca; and all the torment which I had suffered there; and finally my escape from thence, with all the rest that followed.
The charitable mind of a simple old man.
This good aged father, when he had heard of my lamentable discourse, shewing himself rather a Christian than a man brought up among the Turkish Mahometists, greatly pitied my misery; and forthwith led me home to his house, and caused such victuals as the country yieldeth to be set before me, which was dried wheat and honey: and baked a cake upon the fire hearth, and fried it with butter; which I thought very good meat, for I had not been at the like banquet in six years before [1582-1588]; the good father shewing me what comfort he could.
The old man still pitied him and did what lay in him to deliver him.
There I remained four and twenty hours. In the meantime the Moors which dwelt in the villages by, understanding of my being there, came; and, calling me forth, inquired of me, What I was? From whence I came? and Whither I would?: and, with great vehemency, charged their weapons against my breast; insomuch that I thought they would verily have slain me. But mine host, that good old man, came forth and answered for me; and so dissuaded them from doing me any harm: and took me back again into his house.
This being past, I requested him to help me to a guide to conduct me to Argire: and he presently provided two, whereof the one was his son; to whom I promised to give four crowns for their pains.
So taking my leave of my good host, we took our way towards Argire.