Alas, that her father could not have lived to witness this exploit of his
grandson! What a happy man the victory of Lepanto, gained by his
"Wawerl's" son, would have made him! How the fearless old champion of
the faith would have rejoiced in this grandchild, his deeds, and nature!

And what honours were bestowed upon her John!

King Philip wrote to him, "Next to God, gratitude for what has been
accomplished is due to you." A statue was erected to him in Messina.
The Pope had used the words of Scripture, "There was a man sent by God,
and his name was John." Now, yes, now she was more than rewarded for the
sacrifice of Landshut; now the splendour and grandeur for which she had
longed and prayed was far, far exceeded.

This time it was gratitude, fervent gratitude, which detained her in
church. The child of her love, her suffering, her pride, was now happy,
must be happy.

When, two years later, Don John captured Tunis, the exploit could no
longer increase his renown.

At this time also happened many things which filled the heart of a woman
so closely connected with royalty sometimes with joy, sometimes with
anxiety.

In Paris, the night of St. Bartholomew, a year after her son had
chastised the Moslems at Lepanto, dealt the French heretics a deep,
almost incurable wound, and in the Netherlands there were not gallows
enough to hang the misguided fanatics.