“But touching these debts, Jack,” resumed his father. “Suppose thou shouldst fail to wed thine heir,—how then?”
“Then, Sir, I shall trust to redeem the money at play.”
Every man of substance—not a Puritan—was at that time a gamester.
“And how, if that fail?”
“They can’t all fail, Sir!” said Jack lightly.
“My lad!” replied His father earnestly, “I did an ill deed when I sent thee to London.”
“Dear heart, Sir!” exclaimed Jack, just suppressing a much stronger ejaculation, “I do ensure you, you never did a wiser thing.”
“Then my life hath been one of sore folly,” answered his father.
“I alway told thee thou shouldst come to wrack,” added his aunt.
“Nay, now, what wrack have I come to?” returned Jack with a graceful flourish of his hands. “Call you it wrack to have a good post in the Queen’s Majesty’s house, with hope of a better, maybe, when it please God?—or, to be well (stand well, be on good terms) with many honourable gentlemen, and heirs of good houses, throughout all England?—or, to have the pick of their sisters and cousins, when it liketh me to wed?”