Ferdinand II., the new King of Naples, who had no lack of energy or courage, was looking everywhere, at home and abroad, for forces and allies to oppose the imminent invasion.  To the Duke of Milan he wrote, “Remember that we two are of the same blood.  It is much to be desired that a league should at once be formed between the pope, the kings of the Romans and Spain, you, and Venice.  If these powers are united, Italy would have nought to fear from any.  Give me your support; I have the greatest need of it.  If you back me, I shall owe to you the preservation of my throne, and I will honor you as my father.”  He ordered the Neapolitan envoy at Constantinople to remind Sultan Bajazet of the re-enforcements he had promised his father, King Alphonso:  “Time presses; the King of France is advancing in person on Naples; be instant in solicitation; be importunate if necessary, so that the Turkish army cross the sea without delay.  Be present yourself at the embarkation of the troops.  Be active; run; fly.”  He himself ran through all his kingdom, striving to resuscitate some little spark of affection and hope.  He had no success anywhere; the memory of the king his father was hateful; he was himself young and without influence; his ardor caused fear instead of sympathy.  Charles kept advancing along the kingdom through the midst of people that remained impassive when they did not give him a warm reception.  The garrison of Monte San Giovanni, the strongest place on the frontier, determined to resist.  The place was carried by assault in a few hours, and “the assailants,” says a French chronicler, “without pity or compassion, made short work of all those plunderers and malefactors, whose bodies they hurled down from the walls.  The carnage lasted eight whole hours.”  A few days afterwards Charles with his guard arrived in front of San Germano:  “The clergy awaited him at the gate with cross and banner; men of note carried a dais under the which he took his place; behind him followed men, women, and children, chanting this versicle from the Psalms:  ’Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini!  Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord!’” The town of Capua was supposed to be very much attached to the house of Arragon; John James Trivulzio, a valiant Milanese captain, who had found asylum and fortune in Naples, had the command there; and thither King Ferdinand hurried.  “I am going to Naples for troops,” said he to the inhabitants; “wait for me confidently; and if by to-morrow evening you do not see me return, make your own terms with King Charles; you have my full authority.”  On arriving at Naples, he said to the Neapolitans, “Hold out for a fortnight; I will not expose the capital of my kingdom to be stormed by barbarians; if, within a fort-night hence, I have not prevented the enemy from crossing the Volturno, you may ask him for terms of capitulation;” and back he went to Capua.  When he was within sight of the ramparts he heard