When all was ready, Robert of Cabane came to tell the prince that the queen awaited him; Andre cast one last look at the smiling fields beneath the starry heavens, pressed his nurse’s hand to his lips and to his heart, and followed the grand seneschal slowly and, it seemed, with some regret.  But soon the brilliant lights of the room, the wine that circulated freely, the gay talk, the eager recitals of that day’s exploits served to disperse the cloud of gloom that had for a moment overspread the countenance of the prince.  The queen alone, leaning on the table with fixed eyes and lips that never moved, sat at this strange feast pale and cold as a baleful ghost summoned from the tomb to disturb the joy of the party.  Andre, whose brain began to be affected by the draughts of wine from Capri and Syracuse, was annoyed at his wife’s look, and attributing it to contempt, filled a goblet to the brim and presented it to the queen.  Joan visibly trembled, her lips moved convulsively; but the conspirators drowned in their noisy talk the involuntary groan that escaped her.  In the midst of a general uproar, Robert of Cabane proposed that they should serve generous supplies of the same wine drunk at the royal table to the Hungarian guards who were keeping watch at the approaches to the convent, and this liberality evoked frenzied applause.  The shouting of the soldiers soon gave witness to their gratitude for the unexpected gift, and mingled with the hilarious toasts of the banqueters.  To put the finishing touch to Andre’s excitement, there were cries on every side of “Long live the Queen!  Long live His Majesty the King of Naples!”

The orgy lasted far into the night:  the pleasures of the next day were discussed with enthusiasm, and Bertrand of Artois protested in a loud voice that if they were so late now some would not rise early on the morrow.  Andre declared that, for his part, an hour or two’s rest would be enough to get over his fatigue, and he eagerly protested that it would be well for others to follow his example.  The Count of Terlizzi seemed to express some doubt as to the prince’s punctuality.  Andre insisted, and challenging all the barons present to see who would be up first, he retired with the queen to the room that had been reserved for them, where he very soon fell into a deep and heavy sleep.  About two o’clock in the morning, Tommaso Pace, the prince’s valet and first usher of the royal apartments, knocked at his master’s door to rouse him for the chase.  At the first knock, all was silence; at the second, Joan, who had not closed her eyes all night, moved as if to rouse her husband and warn him of the threatened danger; but at the third knock the unfortunate young man suddenly awoke, and hearing in the next room sounds of laughter and whispering, fancied that they were making a joke of his laziness, and jumped out of bed bareheaded, in nothing but his shirt, his shoes half on and half off.  He opened the door; and at this point we translate literally