"I do not rely on my parents," said Courtenay, "any more than on yourself, or on any mortal man, but I rely on my God, who deserts none that put their trust in him."
"I would rather take him by the hair," the Duke said in an audible aside, "and drag him out of the church, than put up with such talk from him."
The bystanders were enraged to hear the Bishop insulted in his own cathedral. They not only broke into the wordy contest, but apparently made it plain that they were ready to pass from words to deeds. We are not told whether the city guard were present, inside or outside the cathedral; but it is quite possible that they were, and that both the King's son and the Marshal were a little overawed by the strength arrayed against them. At any rate the wrangle was so fierce that Courtenay found it necessary to dismiss the assembly; and thus the "lying glutton," as the St. Alban's monk piously calls Wyclif "Doctor Wicked-believe" was another and a more ingenious name for him—escaped censure for the time.
That day and the day which succeeded it were momentous in the records of the city of London, as well as in the lives of Wyclif, Lancaster, and Courtenay. Parliament had met at Westminster in the afternoon, an hour or two before the assembly at St. Paul's, with the Duke of Lancaster presiding. Thomas of Woodstock, afterwards Duke of Gloucester, the King's fifth son, was present, with Lord Percy and the friends of the princes. Apparently there had been a rally of King's friends, by way
