and Joanna says to him: "Cousin, you loved your brother. Love, then, what was dearer to him than his life: protect what he, valiant as you have seen him, cannot! The father, who foiled so many, hath left no enemies; the innocent child, who can injure no one, finds them!" She speaks to the angry citizens and deftly turns their anger. "Let none ever tell me again he is the enemy of my son . . . your darling child, Richard. Are your fears more lively than a poor weak female's? than a mother's? yours, whom he hath so often led to victory, and praised to his father, naming each—he, John of Gaunt, the defender of the helpless, the comforter of the desolate, the rallying signal of the desperately brave!" She stands surety for his loyalty and allegiance, and the fickle mob cheer the Duke as well as herself.
The scene is imaginary; but it is an imagination which will scarcely lead us far astray. John of Gaunt had very possibly brought more odium upon himself than his acts deserved. He was faithful to his sister-in-law and loyal to his nephew, whom, if he had lived but a few months longer, he would have succeeded on the throne.
Reasons have been assigned for thinking that the abortive failure of the St. Paul's inquiry, and the evidence which it gave of Courtenay's ability to hold his own, were amongst the motives which led the Pope to take action against Wyclif in the spring of 1377. But, between the signing of the bulls and their formal delivery in England, Edward III. had brought his glorious reign to its shameful end; and the appeal which Gregory had framed for the
