They found the aged chief at Matchcat, further up the river than We-ro-wo-co-mo-co, and after a pipe of tobacco had been passed around Powhatan inquired anxiously about his daughter's welfare, "her marriage, his unknown son, and how they liked, lived and loved together." Hamer answered that they "lived civilly and lovingly together," and "that his daughter was so well content that she would not change her life to return and live with him, whereat he laughed heartily and said he was very glad of it." Powhatan now asked the particular cause of Mr. Hamer's visit. On being told it was private, the Emperor ordered the room cleared of all except the inevitable pair of queens, who sat on either side of the monarch. Hamer began by saying that he was the bearer of a number of presents from Governor Dale, consisting of coffee, beads, combs, fish hooks and knives, and a promise of the much-talked-of grindstone whenever Powhatan would send for it. He then added that the Governor, hearing of the fame of the Emperor's youngest daughter, was desirous of making her "his nearest companion and wife." He conceived there could not be a finer bond of union between the two people than such a connection; and, besides, Pocahontas was exceedingly anxious for her sister's companionship at Jamestown. He hoped that Powhatan would at least suffer her to visit the colony when he should return. Powhatan more than once came very near interrupting the delivery of this message. But he controlled himself, and when Hamer had finished, the Emperor gracefully acknowledged the compliment, but protested that his daughter had been three days married to a certain young chief. To this the brazen Hamer replied that this was nothing; that the groom would readily relinquish her for the ample presents which Governor Dale would make, and further that a prince of his greatness might easily exert his authority to reclaim his daughter on some pretext. To this base proposition the old sachem made an answer of which the nobility and purity might have put to shame the unscrupulous Hamer. He confessed that he loved his daughter as his life and though he had many children he delighted in her most of all. He could not live without seeing her every day and that would be impossible if she went among the colonists, for he had resolved upon no account to put himself in their power or to visit them. He desired no other pledge of friendship than the one already existing in the marriage of his Pocahontas, unless she should die, in which case he would give up another child. He concluded with the following pathetic eloquence: "I hold it not a brotherly part for your King to endeavor to bereave me of my two darling children at once. Give him to understand that if he had no pledge at all, he need not distrust any injury from me or my people. There has already been too much of blood and war; too many of my people and of his have already fallen in our strife, and by my occasion there shall never be any more.