Nicholas Harris, his father, and Rosamund Harris, his mother, looked at him with love and pride. Nicholas, a huge man, was 1603 fifty-nine years old this year, and his wife thirty-seven.
Robert, their only child, was three years old. He was wide and well-built, but not tall, his strong legs lay firmly on the ground, his round head sat well on his thick neck, his eyes were steady and piercing.