Upon one occasion he was staying at Visegrád, his splendid palace a short distance from Buda, when the sultan’s ambassador arrived. It gratified the pride of Matthias to dazzle the eyes of the Turkish envoy, who was accustomed to the brilliant surroundings of the sultan, with the splendor of his own court. Visegrád, which was called by the contemporaries “an earthly paradise,” fully suited his purpose. The envoy and his train were brought from their city quarters to the royal castle, in order to be admitted to the solemn audience with the king. As the gates of the castle were thrown open a gorgeous spectacle met their eyes. The king stood on an eminence of one of his hanging gardens. Around him, above and below him, were grouped the great of the land and his courtiers, clad in silk, velvet, gold, and silver robes, with shining arms. At this unexpected sight the envoy was struck with awe. In confusion he drew nearer, but as his eyes met the proud look of the king he became so embarrassed that he lost the command of his voice, and was only able to stammer out, after a pause: “The padishah greets you, the padishah greets you.” The king, perceiving his painful hesitation, had him led back to his quarters. After the lapse of a few days he was conducted again into the king’s presence, who, after having bestowed upon the envoy rich presents, sent him back to his master with the proud message to “send another time an ambassador who, at least, can speak.” Of such a nature were the audiences granted to foreign envoys. The audiences granted to his own subjects lacked, of course, the pomp and pageant of the former, but the king was particularly careful and painstaking in the treatment of the matters thus brought before him. This was more especially the case during the beginning of his reign. His first wife, the daughter of the Czech king, whom he had married in 1458, died a few years afterwards, leaving him a widower, and the ceremonial of the court, in the absence of a queen, admitted of an unrestrained intercourse with his people. But he married again in 1476 the daughter of the king of Naples, Princess Beatrice. With her presence Italian etiquette and formality began to prevail in the royal court, and free access to the king’s person became more and more difficult. In his youth the business of his doorkeepers was but scant, for the doors stood wide open for the petitioners, who were kindly received by the young king. Nor was the number of these small, for the king’s fame as a friend to justice had spread all over the country. A whole army of petitioners, from the great lord to the simple peasant, frequently besieged the doors of the audience hall, for Matthias was known to treat them all with uniform affability. He attentively listened to and duly weighed the petitions and complaints of all. This was a matter of great importance at a time when a privileged class, the nobles, were the masters of the property of the numerous peasantry, and