of St. Peter's at Majella was converted into a royal residence: this
convent had been built by Charles II in the year of our Lord 1309.

While the grand seneschal was giving orders for supper and the
preparation of a room for Andre and his wife, the prince, who during
the whole day had abandoned himself entirely to his favourite amusement,
went up on the terrace to enjoy the evening air, accompanied by the good
Isolda, his beloved nurse, who loved him more even than his mother, and
would not leave his side for a moment. Never had the prince appeared so
animated and happy: he was in ecstasies over the beauty of the country,
the clear air, the scent of the trees around; he besieged his nurse with
a thousand queries, never waiting for an answer; and they were indeed
long in coming, for poor Isolda was gazing upon him with that appearance
of fascination which makes a mother absent-minded when her child is
talking: Andre was eagerly telling her about a terrible boar he had
chased that morning across the woods, how it had lain foaming at his
feet, and Isolda interrupted him to say he had a grain of dust in his
eye. Then Andre was full of his plans for the future, and Isolda stroked
his fair hair, remarking that he must be feeling very tired. Then,
heeding nothing but his own joy and excitement, the young prince hurled
defiance at destiny, calling by all his gods on dangers to come forward,
so that he might have the chance of quelling them, and the poor nurse
exclaimed, in a flood of tears, "My child, you love me no longer."

Out of all patience with these constant interruptions, Andre scolded
her kindly enough, and mocked at her childish fears. Then, paying no
attention to a sort of melancholy that was coming over him, he bade
her tell him old tales of his childhood, and had a long talk about his
brother Louis, his absent mother, and tears were in his eyes when he
recalled her last farewell. Isolda listened joyfully, and answered all