From Arnold Ipolyi's Magyar Mythologia (1854)
Arnold Ipolyi (1823–1886) was a Hungarian Catholic bishop, antiquarian, and the founder of systematic Hungarian folklore studies. His Magyar Mythologia, published in Budapest in 1854, was the first comprehensive attempt to reconstruct the pre-Christian religion of the Hungarians from medieval chronicle references, folk beliefs, place names, linguistic evidence, and comparative mythology. Drawing on years of fieldwork and an extensive network of regional correspondents across Hungary — from Debrecen and Kecskemét to Fehér county and the Balaton — Ipolyi assembled the richest single collection of Hungarian pagan religious material ever published.
Chapter XV, "Papok" (Priests), presents the four great figures of the Hungarian pagan priesthood: the táltos, the bölcsek, the javas, and the garaboncos diák. Ipolyi reconstructs their functions from the Bécsi Codex, medieval chronicle passages, regional folk beliefs collected in the 1840s and 1850s, and comparative mythology spanning Sanskrit, Egyptian, Phoenician, Norse, Slavic, and classical traditions. The folk material preserves extraordinary legends: the táltos born with teeth who must fight a bull while both breathe fire, the inventor who rides among the constellations on a crooked-shafted cart, the wandering scholars who survive the Wheel of Fortune and ride bridled dragons to a land where ice-cold dragon-flesh is sold for gold, and the Book of Wisdom whose single word "felmegyünk" raises the highway to the sun.
No English translation of this chapter has previously been published. It is the most important primary source on Hungarian shamanism and pre-Christian priesthood. Many of the legends Ipolyi recorded — collected from oral testimony when living memory of these traditions was already fading — have since been lost from popular tradition. This translation is made directly from the Hungarian text as published in the 1854 Budapest edition.
The Táltos
Of the priests of our religion, vivid historical records and memorials of their names have survived. Theophylaktos says that the Turks have priests who profess to make known to them the future. Our ancient language still preserved the táltos as a pagan priestly name; accordingly, the táltos were the sages and priests of the old pagan Hungarians. In the Bécsi Codex, in Chapters 2 and 4 of Daniel, among the foreign priestly names of the Vulgate text, we find the magus translated with our own pagan priestly name: "the king commanded that the altar-gazers, the táltos, and the evil-doers should be summoned together — that they might reveal to the king his dreams"; and: "the secret which the king asks, the sages, táltos, altar-gazers — cannot reveal it."
In our mythology we have already encountered a kindred name and concept in the name of the táltos horse. There too the interpretation of magician, proteus, vertumnus was found, whereby our language and legend still know a wondrous, enchanted, táltos horse. Here is the place to descend more deeply into the investigation of the name.
The words táltos and tátos are evidently identical; the difference between the contracted abbreviation and the lengthened form is an inessential variation of popular pronunciation, like koldus and kódus, folt and fót, bulcsu and búcsu. The root may be the same: tat or tal. Let us take up first the tal, as the more pregnant in meaning. The word tat: tat, tata, ata — in its forms as a primordial word and concept, with the meaning of father — we see it reflected across all languages. Beyond this general meaning, in mythological teachings and memorials we encounter it with a still more definite religious significance.
In Hindu mythology Brahma's epithet is tat — "that, the same, that one" (hoc, illud) — that is, the being, the existent, the entity par excellence. Shiva's name is likewise deva-tat or tashla — "the divine artist." Buddha too is tol — "father." The Egyptian Thoth and — according to the translator of Sanchuniathon, Philo Byblius — the Phoenician Tautos were held to be the primordial father of all knowledge and art, the teacher of humankind, who stood as mediator between gods and mortals. To him was attributed the greatness and prosperity of two peoples, every invention and advance. The Chaldean Thaut is one of the first principles of the world, of existence. Classical writers also preserved the names Theuth, Thoth, Theutus, the Gallic Teutates, and the Germanic Tuisto and Tuitco. All these mythological names appear not merely as tribal forefathers, but especially — like the Sanskrit deva-tat and the Egypto-Phoenician Thaut — as divine artists and teachers, primaeval sources of knowledge, creators of art, in the meaning of the Hermes-Mercury myth. Indeed, according to the opinion of more recent mythologists, Thaut was simply the collective name of the Memphite priestly college, which was once the seat of Egyptian wisdom; and after the name lost its meaning, it was transferred to designate the personified source and deity of wisdom, knowledge, and art.
As the form of the name under discussion, so too its root-meaning harmonizes with these mythological significances. Already its translation as magus expresses the concept of wisdom, knowledge, and teaching. In our language the words of the same or kindred root and converging meanings point to this: tan — doctrine; tanítás — instruction; tanító — teacher, magister; tana — consultation; tanács — counsel, consilium; and more still tudós — learned, doctus. Likewise kindred with tan: dana — song, cantus; dalos — singer, cantator — all of which pertain to the sphere of action of the táltos priestly office.
Therefore, if in tracing our word we take up not the tátos form with its tat root, but the táltos with its tal root, we find the same explanatory meaning: on the one hand, the tal is identical with tan in the ancient period — pointing to dal (song) and dalos (singer); on the other hand, still more closely: talál — in the popular tongue: tanál — "to find," találmány — "invention," inventor, inventiosus — and in these words we arrive again at the meaning of the Hermetic myth and the magus quality. And just as in ancient mythological god-names and priestly names we possess parallels to our táltos name, so too the explanatory words tan, tudós and the rest appear across other languages: in Persian, dan — "to know," danályk and dánis — "knowledge"; in Turkish, tan, tanyk — "witness," tanyklyh — "testimony," tanitik — "counsel," tanymah — "to know"; in Latin, taitaa — "to know."
With these meanings that explain the táltos as a priestly and magus name, we already possess indications of the quality of such a priestly office: for such folk-sages and faith-scholars, the province of teaching and doctrine, of counsel and consultation, was undoubtedly theirs. In the ancient age, as we know, song too was embraced within this doctrine, whereby the unwritten word was preserved and most vividly maintained and disseminated. Therefore the natural singers, and likewise the song-prophets, were the táltos. We encounter these phenomena across all ancient religions: prophets are equally the inspired poets, singers, and chanters of a people. The Latin vates is prophet and poet at once. Apollo is the god of the lyre and of divination. In the ancient North, Odin speaks in verse; his high priest, hofgoði, is a poet, ljóðasmiðr. We see these qualities of our táltos priests surfacing also in our chronicle accounts, where — already under the general Latin names magi, aruspices, pythonissae — they are mentioned during the periods of the pagan revolts, when they fight for the restoration of the ancient teaching: ut traditio resumatur paganismi, and: petierunt... ut irent in adinventionibus antiquorum patrum suorum — "that the tradition of paganism be resumed," and "they demanded to walk in the ways of their ancient forefathers." Their songs further incited the people: praepositi in eminentiori residentes, praedicabant nefanda carmina contra fidem — "leaders, stationed in high places, chanted abominable songs against the faith."
Further meanings might still be sought in our name. Just as the magi — a name which, as we have seen, our táltos serves as its identical translation — were not merely wise men, teachers, and scholars, but at the same time wonder-working enchanters and artists, so too this meaning is present in the mythological names deva-tat, Thaut, and generally in the understanding that the sages and priests of the ancient age were held to be such. One of our expressions used for magic and enchantment is the word büt; another which presents itself is tátódóra — "fool, simpleton, the stunned one" — and properly the infascinatus, the infatuatus. Beyond the present debased meaning of "fool" and "dolt," the original meaning would be the state of being enchanted, bewitched: tát — the opening, the gaping, the wonder. The word tát — aperit, hiat — "opens, gapes" — could be the basic sense, and thus connected to the ancient general designation of enchantment.
Folk Beliefs and Legends of the Táltos
But folk tradition too knows the táltos name, bound to it with vivid legendary remembrance. I give here in full extent my collected data on this subject.
From the communication of Fehér (coll. 203): The tátos — I write the word as it stands in the individual reports — may be a man or a horse. Both are born into the world with teeth. If the midwife discovers that the táltos-child has teeth and reveals the secret, the child is lost — carried off, that is, by the other táltos. But one must be born a táltos; through training alone no one can become one.
The táltos is as a rule serious, thoughtful, and sorrowful. He must fight — and specifically, a bull. At the time of combat he too becomes a bull, and when the two clash, fiery flame issues from their mouths. If the táltos defeats the bull, he goes wandering and seeks himself a companion.
The táltos-horse is always wretched and lean, until the táltos buys it. When the táltos finds such a horse, he inquires after the price. If it is offered cheaply, he leaves it, and does not buy it until the owner asks a proper price for it. When the táltos obtains such a horse, he rides it like thought. The táltos cannot be wounded by sword or bullet; therefore he commonly serves as a soldier.
When a táltos dies, pebbles are placed in his mouth, for otherwise he devours the moon. A child born on Christmas Eve naturally becomes a táltos. The táltos knows the hidden treasures that lie in the earth, but he is not permitted to touch them.
Another communication stands for inspection in the National Museum (2. 500, from Karcsay): "The táltos-man comes into the world with teeth and does not change them. But if the midwife or anyone else reveals the secret, then the táltos-child cannot be raised — it dies at once. Animals too give birth to táltos — especially horses — and these too can only be raised in secret, and then only a táltos-man can make use of them. When a táltos-man obtains a táltos-horse, he accomplishes great deeds in war and especially achieves great victory. The táltos's knowledge is great; he knows where the treasures lie hidden in the earth, but he has no power to take them up. However, it lies within his ability to change his form and take upon himself various animal shapes. For the most part he lurks in the guise of a shepherd or farmhand. Every seventh year he is compelled to go to another country and fight the táltos of that land, and whichever of them prevails in combat, his country will be very fertile that year."
These two separate, independent communications, as can be seen, present the folk belief with nearly identical features — which can only confirm its universality. I add from my collection the remaining features that notably explain and complete the picture.
Thus there persists, especially and vividly everywhere, the folk belief about the táltos children alone — even in places where the other traditions about the táltos have been forgotten. Accordingly (coll. 93): "The tátos-child, who comes into the world with teeth, is wise and knowing. Without being taught, he can read from books. He knows many hidden things and prophesies them. He knows in every house what is being cooked and where. But he lives only until his seventh year, and then vanishes at once — they never learn of his whereabouts."
Individual legends portray the image of the táltos still more vividly. One especially vivid tale tells of a táltos named Kampó (coll. 290, from Debrecen): The ice-bodied, short-statured, thick-legged táltos Kampó lived in Temesvár, whence he used to go to Buda to dine with the king. King Mátyás always showed him great respect, which the queen found deeply humiliating. She often asked her husband by what reason he held such a wretched man in such high honor. The king grew weary of this, and finally, in place of an answer, called upon Kampó to show his prowess before the queen. The next day, when Kampó the táltos came to dinner, at the opening of the palace door he hooked his upper jaw upon the top of the doorframe and his lower jaw upon the threshold, and breathed fire into the royal palace. The queen in her terror sank back into her chair — but straightaway found herself in Kampó's lap.
The legend continues with his magical heroic deeds — how he fights with his ice-body against Turks iron-clad from head to toe, and at other times goes in pursuit of Mátyás's moon, which the Turks had seized, journeying through fairy-realms armed with magical instruments to win it back.
Likewise the name táltos-man is applied directly to that man (Karcsay, Nat. Mus. 2. 501) who invented the cart. He was a very knowing man, versed in all manner of things. He spoke with the birds, the trees, the plants. He understood the meaning of the stars. He performed many wonders. His death was not seen — they believed he vanished into the sky. Just as on earth he always rode in a crooked-shafted cart, so now he travels by night across the sky among the constellations.
The local legends too still mention táltos (coll. 304): "At Sz— a táltos once went to Dóró's harvest fields and asked for food. The workers scolded him — why did he not work? So after eating he worked the whole morning until noon, ate with them at midday, but came out from the meal before the rest, with the warning that at vintage-time they would pay for his labor. When the other harvesters came out, he was already seen upon a distant hilltop. At vintage-time Dóró the landowner went out to gather his grapes with all his gear, but a sudden hailstorm utterly destroyed his vineyard — his alone, and no one else's."
Near Sz. Újváros, beside the mound which is called the lyukas halom — the "hollow mound" — from a hole in one of its sides, a local resident related the following to Révész (coll.): "When he was still an eight- or ten-year-old child — some sixty years ago — one afternoon, in the absence of their father, a strange old man of beggar-like appearance came to them. He at once called their mother by name and commanded her to cook cheese dumplings immediately, for he was the táltos.
"When the meal was ready, he sat down with the children and began to talk with them in a friendly way, asking: 'You have fine millet now, don't you? Well, don't be afraid — the hail won't beat it down!'
"During the meal the táltos stood up and, going outside, stood beneath the chimney and there let out a terrible shout. 'I just shouted to my companions,' he said, 'to tell them not to hurry so much.'
"When he was about to depart, he said: 'Dig up that hollow mound, ten paces in such-and-such a direction, and you will find in it so much treasure that even your descendants will live richly upon it.'
"When the táltos went out and the people of the town learned of it, they went after him, caught him, and brought him back. But he only said: 'Let me go — I am a táltos-man!' And they at once set him free."
The Táltos Interpreted
These, then, are the scattered remnants still surviving of the ancient religion's once-wise táltos — with whose tatters, as can be seen, the wandering charlatans and tricksters long cloaked themselves before our people, exploiting their credulity and ancient reverential respect, or later merely their fear, which they bore toward the táltos and the mountebanks who had descended from them. Yet even from the confused tradition a few notably explanatory features may be extracted, in which several mutually touching pagan traditional conceptions have blended.
Foremost stands the universal belief about the child born with teeth — its precocity and wisdom. Perhaps, then, such children were chosen for the táltos office; taken in childhood from the parental home and brought up within the táltos circle, they were held to be vanished children. Perhaps the number seven — so significant in many religious respects, and generally the appropriate age for the beginning of a child's education — was here too the measure by which they were selected from family life, as indeed the tradition likewise knows of animals, and especially of horses.
We may further suppose that especially such táltos children and horses born with teeth were selected by the priests for purposes of divination and sacrifice. Noteworthy in this regard is the horse attached to the táltos, which he alone is able to recognize and obtain for his purposes, and through which alone he begins to exercise his higher powers — which, in connection with the above-presented features of the táltos-horse, clearly confirms what I ventured in that chapter: that such táltos horses were kept within the relevant táltos priestly circles for purposes of divination and divine worship.
Purely to such ancient priestly sages, priests, and prophets should be attributed those features by which they are presented as persons of higher faculties and knowledge — who know hidden things, who are learned men, who, like Csanád, prophesy from the course of the stars, who understand the speech of animals and the song of birds, who know the power of herbs; who are wondrous artists, inventors of particular devices such as the cart; and alongside all this, enchanters — whether this knowledge of their abilities existed with such higher religious understanding, that for instance they could assume various forms, raise wind and hailstorms, and effect the fertility of the earth, or whether these in the later popular imagination had already degenerated into mere conjurer's tricks of fire-breathing, hail-and-storm-bringing, and treasure-finding.
The heroic trait also notably mingles with the táltos: they too fight, like heroes; they are invulnerable, whom the sword cannot wound; they must battle monsters, the fire-breathing bull, and foreign heroes from other lands. The táltos-horse would be their champion's steed, as the hero's horse. In all these it may be that in later tradition the properly heroic features descended upon the táltos, just as táltos features ascended to the hero — that his wondrous horse is identified with the divinatory táltos-horse of divine worship, that the hero accomplishes his feats with higher magical power, that his weapons serve as enchanted instruments, that he can render himself invulnerable, that he possesses higher knowledge and understands the speech of animals and the power of plants, like Csaba and László. But just as these features in the heroes are properly divine attributes, so too the heroic warrior character may be proper to the táltos himself: in the ancient age among us, the priestly office was scarcely so separated that its devotional sphere did not also encompass the general warlike life of the nation. Indeed, later evidence will suggest that by virtue of their governing offices, the priests also possessed high military authority.
Much may yet remain to explain in this obscure tradition — for instance, the peculiar belief that a dying táltos, if a stone is not placed in his mouth, will devour the moon from the sky. In such details, once-coherent traditional conceptions have survived to us in disconnected and therefore unrecognizable form. The greater part, however, stands clearly enough as evidence of the táltos's pagan priestly character — which will be further completed by the popular features concerning the garaboncos.
The Bölcsek — The Sages
Did there perhaps exist in our ancient religion, besides these táltos, a separate class of sages and religious scholars? As we encounter in the cited passage of the Bécsi Codex, with its carefully chosen translations of separate foreign priestly names — Chaldaei, sapientes, magi rendered as bölcsek és táltosok, "sages and táltos" — and as our chronicles too appear to know? Or, what is more probable, were these sages already identical with our táltos? In either case the following passage in our chronicles deserves attention for our subject.
In the chronicle (Budai 38, Turóczi 2. 3), the Hungarians, returning from the embassy of Kusid sent to Sviatopluk and reporting its success, present the tokens they have brought: aquae, terram et herbam eis praesentavit — "he presented to them water, earth, and grass." De quibus — so the chronicle says — ipsi sapientes bene cognoverunt; quod terra optima sit — "concerning which the sages well perceived that the land was excellent." Here the chronicle's Latin permits a double interpretation of the expression sapientes cognoverunt — either that, deliberating wisely over the brought tokens, they found them good; or, with the meaning of sapere — gustare, "to taste," that by tasting the tokens they judged them good. The latter interpretation, as can be seen, is more strained, for according to it they would have had to taste even the earth, which is mentioned first as terra optima, and the grass as well.
But the circumstance is illuminated by the well-known Möglein German translation of our chronicles, which here clearly mentions such sages: "tzaigt im das layt fass mit dem wasser, ond daz grass ond die erden. Do erkatten die weysen der kewnen, daz daz landt gar fruchtper were" — "He showed them the vessel with the water, and the grass and the earth. Then the sages of the bold ones recognized that the land was very fertile."
Setting this aside — that is, looking at specifically Hungarian sages — the very solemnity of that religious scene points to priestly scholars: when through the sacred tokens the new homeland is, as it were, received, and Árpád, pouring the water into his horn, offers it as a sacrifice to God before the assembled people.
Just as we see the Hungarians and Árpád here, so too in the Hun legend we see Attila, before every important undertaking and before the decision of battle, seeking the counsel of such sages and prophets. Before the Battle of the Catalaunian Fields: universos aruspices et divinatores, quos ad instar paganorum magna futurorum rerum dicendi pro spe secum deferebat, ad se vocari iussit... illi quidem extis pecorum, ut barbarorum erat consuetudo, perspectis — "he summoned to him all the haruspices and diviners, whom in the manner of pagans he kept with him for the hope of foretelling great future events... they indeed, having examined the entrails of cattle, as was the custom of barbarians." And similarly before the siege of Aquileia: multis philonicis lateri suo adhaerentibus, in quibus iuxta fidei sui opinionem, spem maximam ponebat — "with many pythonissae attending upon him, in whom, according to the conviction of his faith, he placed the greatest hope."
Priskos, in his account of his embassy to Attila, mentions why Attila favored his son Irnak above the others: a Hun whispered to him that talem Attilae vaticinatos esse, eius genus, quod alioquin interiturum erat, ab hoc puero restauratum iri — "such had been prophesied to Attila: that his race, which was otherwise destined to perish, would be restored by this boy."
The Javas — The Diviner and Healer
In these records we find the memory of the Huns' priests preserved under numerous foreign priestly names: aruspices, divinatores, pythonissae, vates. Our own later chronicle accounts likewise mention them under similar names during the period of the pagan revolt, when Vata's son János — the leader of those who strove for the pagan faith — gathers around himself, beyond the aforesaid magi and táltos, numerous enchanters, prophets, and sorceresses, and through them becomes exceedingly popular: cuius (Vatae) filius Janus, multo postmodum tempore ritum patris imitando, congregavit ad se multos magos et phithonissas et aruspices, per quorum incantationem, valde gratiosus erat apud dominos — "Vata's son János, long afterward imitating his father's ways, gathered to himself many magi and pythonissae and haruspices, and through their enchantments became greatly beloved among the lords."
Though the text preserved the memory of our ancient priests only under such general foreign pagan priestly names, we may still, from our abundant ancient and original words applicable to them, revive their names. Such a name is javas, derived from jó, java, javaslás — "good, benefit, advising." By its clear meaning it signifies an adviser, a counselor — which expresses more precisely, and as it were more explicatively, the manner of pagan religious divination: the prophecy was properly and commonly sought and given only before an uncertain forthcoming event, as an "advising" — not as broad in meaning as the biblical vaticinium or prophetia, rendered by the concepts jövendőlés and jövendőmondás, "prophecy" and "fortune-telling."
Not only did our language preserve the word with its pagan religious significance; the usage of our folk speech too knows it directly as a name connected to the old pagan priestly practice. According to the dialect dictionary, javas (a Baranya county word): "Among the superstitious folk, they are accustomed to call by this name those women or men who heal by incantation — ráolvasás." And javos (a word from the Lake Balaton region): "Fortunate, knowing, self-important, a quack-healer. One and another of them becomes widely famous. They live by herbs, heal wounds, prepare remedies against the bite of a mad dog." And (a word from Kemenesalja): "An incanting peasant physician, a secret healer, a learned man."
Clearly thus the pagan priestly name survived, and from the advising and divining of the priest-javas it received its modern general meaning of vaticinium — prophecy, foretelling. Similarly, as with divination, so too enchantment, magic, sorcery, healing, writing, and carving each represent separate religious practices, and would each imply a corresponding office-name to whose sphere they prominently belonged.
The records concerning the Huns' priests inform us especially of their divination by dissection. Before the Catalaunian Fields: extis pecorum, "from the entrails of cattle." More circumstantially in Jornandes: pecorom fibras, nunc quasdam venas in abrasis ossibus intuentes — "examining the fibers of cattle, and at other times certain veins upon scraped bones." Though the further words of Jornandes, "more solito," and Turóczi's "ad instar paganorum... ut barbarorum est consuetudo," suggest that this mode of divination may have been taken from foreign mythologies better known to these writers, the data may yet be confirmed by a notable ancient priestly name preserved in popular tradition: the bélfőző, the bélnéző — the "gut-gazer," the reader of entrails.
The Garaboncos Diák — The Wandering Scholar-Magician
The name garaboncos, garabonciás, and garabonciás-diák appears in our dictionaries again with the general explanation of magus, praestigiator, necromancer — and the probably incorrectly formed garabonca with the explanation of magic and necromancy. The name points to significant compounds. In the root bon, boni, bom-ol — "loosens, dissolves, disturbs" — and more definitively in boncol — "dissects" — and in the modern anatomical terms boncolás (dissection) and bonctan (anatomy), the concept of unfolding, resolving, opening up — especially as applied to the animal body — is expressed. Alongside these, further old and partly entirely obsolete words derived from this root survive: bonka — "mutilated"; bonta — "bicolor"; bonc — "necklace." Similarly: bomfordi — "inept, unpolished"; udvari bomfordi — "court buffoon."
For the explanation of the gara- compound, we find the old garabó — "basket, hamper" — and garád — "grinding-trough, mill-box" — and the still nearer garázda — "quarrel, strife, contentiousness." The name may also be read with a k-: karaboncos, which Jerney also takes. The rich meanings of the root words kar and kár — "arm, choir, state, sound; damage" — along with the derivatives kárhozat (damnation), kard (sword), karácsony (Christmas), which already lead into mythological concepts — all present themselves. Further, the Eastern and especially the Turkish word kara — "black" — which survives also in the Slavic as čara, čerňi, and in Serbian kara — may also be relevant. In our own language: karakatna — "black diving-bird" on the Tisza.
The connection to the Slavic černokňažník — which in Slavic popular tradition is precisely what the garaboncos is among us, and the name properly means "black-book-man": černí — "black" and kňižka, kníha — "book, booklet" — suggests the book itself may be black from the writing-marks within it, which would most naturally consist of black-colored signs.
Folk Beliefs of the Garaboncos
Before I apply the meanings emerging from the word-analysis, let me present the folk belief about the garaboncos from the numerous data in my collection.
The garaboncos-student, according to present-day folk belief, is generally held to be the son of a witch. But he may be anyone's son — provided only the chief requisite is present: that he complete his thirteenth school. Just as folk belief supposes the witch to be his parent, so it knows the devil to be the master of that school. They commonly go about ragged, weary, with a book under their arm, hastening from village to village, and enter houses begging. If they are sent away empty-handed — especially if bread and milk are refused them — they bring disaster upon the fields. A windstorm rises at once. Hail and cloudburst beat down the vines and flood the crops.
They rouse the lightning too, and the thunder. At such times the people believe they see their forms in the dark clouds — reading from an open book with cloak spread wide. At other times they are seen riding a dragon, flying through the air. If they ask for something and it is not given, they curse: "If there is none, let there be none!" And raising a wind, they tear the roof from the house.
The Thirteen Schools and the Wheel of Fortune
From Karcsay (Nat. Mus. 2. 499): "The garabonciás is made from a student who has completed thirteen schools and has not perished upon the Wheel of Fortune.
"The student who has completed twelve schools goes to a far, far country, over water and seas, through many perils. Then he enters a cave, where he finds companions, and with them studies the thirteenth school. When twelve of them are gathered, they mount the Wheel of Fortune. It spins rapidly with them. One among them must certainly perish upon it. Therefore they mount it in fear, for they do not know which of them will be lost — but all are resolved upon it. Those who survive this great trial — eleven of them — become garaboncos, and go forth throughout the world to practice the garaboncos craft, with gaunt faces and ragged cloaks.
"They beg chiefly for milk and bread. They curse whoever does not give them what they ask. They need not much, but one must not break the bread for them — a whole loaf must be given, and they themselves cut from it a small piece. From an untouched pitcher they themselves take their share, and they speak a blessing upon the house for it.
"Where they have been turned away, they say: 'Woman! — or Master! — you will regret what you have done. This once, gladly! In a quarter-hour — but it will be too late!' Straightway a storm rises after them, tears the roof from the house, and brings great damage to the grain.
"The dragon too comes forth only when the garaboncos reads it out, chanting over it from his secret book, from which no one else can read. The dragon thus conjured forth he saddles, and in a tempest rides it at the speed of lightning to Moorland, where he slaughters it and sells its flesh at great price to the Moors, who can endure the terrible heat only by carrying pieces of dragon-flesh under their tongues, which cools them. With a fortune in gold and precious stones and diamonds, the garaboncos student returns from there.
"The difference between the garaboncos and the táltos is this: the garaboncos becomes one through study, of his own will and inclination, if he succeeds in surviving the trial. But the táltos is born to it — he himself can do nothing about it. The planet under which he was born brings it with it."
The Dragon-Ride
Another communication (from the Kecskemét region, coll. 254): "The garaboncos are men of magical knowledge, who can summon rain and windstorms and have power over the dragons. They read them forth. But they can also foretell future events. Thus it was possible to see them, as is said, even in the recent troubled times, on the farmsteads, when they told a farmer everything bad that was to come — and all of it came to pass. When they appear at the farmsteads, they ask only for sour milk, or eggs and bread, from which they hollow out the inside. Where they are received kindly, there is nothing to fear. In the opposite case, they are very dangerous — out of revenge they raise a windstorm that overturns haystacks and straw-ricks. They appear sometimes as ragged students, sometimes in the garb of the common people. They thank the alms they receive with the words: 'What you gave, you gave. What you had, you had. What you will have, you will have.' The garaboncos, it is said, are made from children born with one, two, or three teeth whose midwife neglected to pull them out. These children are carried off at age seven by the 'hostile powers' — that is, by evil forces — who teach them everything and then keep them in service for the magical art."
From yet another long legend (coll. 256) comes the detailed account of how the garaboncos reads forth the dragon and rides to Moorland: A herdsman who kept sheep on a farm noticed that his flock was shrinking daily. For a long time they could not discover what was preying upon it, and suspected a forest predator — until at last the herdsman watched and saw the dragon crawling forth from the marsh with its young, and carrying off one of the flock.
Now they deliberated what to do, for the dragon would surely not be satisfied with the flock in which they had already suffered such loss, and after its destruction their own turn would come.
Into the anxious household there stepped suddenly a half-ragged stranger with a gray beard, a withered, smoke-darkened face, and a book under his arm. He greeted them, sat down, and asked for sour milk and bread. At once he knew the trouble and offered his help.
They went out with the herdsman to the bank of the marsh. Arriving there, the garaboncos drew out three halters and began to read. Before long the dragon crawled forth. The garaboncos bridled it with the halters, and after it read forth the dragon's young as well, which the herdsman had to help subdue.
Then the garaboncos made the herdsman an offer — to fly with him to Moorland upon the dragons. At once three black clouds arose, and they ascended at the speed of the wind. During the flight the wind tore off the herdsman's hat. He cried out — let them stop a moment so he could pick it up! "Ho, ho!" said the garaboncos. "Where is it now? A hundred miles from us!"
Along the way they traveled now calmly, now again amid a terrible windstorm. When the herdsman asked the reason, he received the answer: "Now we are passing over people who offended us. Now over good-hearted people — those we must spare."
Finally, when they had drawn so near to the sun that they nearly melted, they descended all at once among a people who, in order to endure the melting heat of the sun, carry dragon-skin under their tongues or armpits — for dragon-flesh is ice-cold.
The garaboncos having slain the dragons, he received gold for every morsel, so that the herdsman could scarcely carry his share home.
At length Bél too writes at length of the people of Szebellébiek: ascribing the destruction of their fields by hailstorm to a dragon dwelling in a nearby cliff, they went in search of a garaboncos to deliver them. Thereupon the conjurer offered himself: paratum se fore, ad belluam illam, incantationibus suis, ex antro, sine cuiusquam noxa, proliciendum, atque iniectis rite frenis, institutoque, per aeris regionem, volatu, in transmarinam regionem deducendam — "he declared himself ready to lure the beast from its cave by his enchantments, without harm to anyone, and having duly bridled it and launched into flight through the region of the air, to conduct it to a land beyond the sea."
The Book of Wisdom
From Fehér (coll. 204): "The garaboncos's power resides chiefly in the act of reading-out, which he performs from the Book of Wisdom, and from which he is especially able to read the dragons forth from their hiding places. What mighty power lies in this Book of Wisdom, with which every garaboncos is furnished, the following story shows:
"Once a peasant was driving along the highway with his two-ox cart and came upon a ragged man with a sack hanging from his shoulder. The man asked to be taken up onto the cart. The peasant took him up, and the man, weary, lay down in the cart, having taken the sack from his neck and hung it upon the stake of the cart-rail. Thereupon he fell asleep.
"The peasant was curious to know what was in the sack. He reached in and drew out a book. He looked into it, and his eye caught on a word that was written thus: FELMEGYÜNK — 'we go up.'
"Hardly had he read the word when the highway began to rise. The oxen went ever higher and higher. Already they had climbed so high that the sun began to burn the peasant and the oxen.
"But the poor peasant could only stare at the book, until at last the sun woke even the sleeper from his slumber. Waking and seeing with alarm that his book was in the peasant's hands, he snatched it away at once, turned a page, and began to read: LEMEGYÜNK — 'we go down.'
"The road descended immediately, and before long they reached the ground.
"'Lucky for you,' said the owner of the book, 'that you did not close the book up there! For if you had shut it without reading the lemegyünk, we would have dropped at once and been smashed to dust and ashes.'
"The peasant now knew full well whom he had to do with. The garaboncos student thanked the peasant for his kindness and departed. But the peasant too made a vow that never again would he take a ragged man onto his cart."
The Garaboncos as Helping Spirits
Otherwise the garaboncos can also be read forth from this book. (coll. 47): A poor man takes service, but is unable to perform his master's heavy labor. In his distress he takes up a found book and begins to read from it. At once the garaboncos-students appear and help him — their help consisting in this: that they destroy the house of the oppressive master, empty the grain from his storeroom, and so forth. In other ways too they come as helping spirits, aiding the poor and punishing the oppressor — which points to a certain guardian-spirit, household-spirit character.
(coll. 56): When a poor man is sadly eating his last morsel of bread, the garaboncos-students step in and ask him for bread. He willingly hands them even his last bite, and in return, out of gratitude, they give him this counsel: to take on a great harvest contract. He undertakes the harvest, but despairs over the labor that exceeds his strength. Thereupon the garaboncos appear to help him. The work is done with miraculous speed. To the peasant's continual cries of "Stand up! Bind them together!" the rich harvest at once stands in finished sheaves.
The Garaboncos and the Tempestarii
From these singular confused, darkened, and debased features, a traditional awareness of such a garaboncos pagan-priestly character may yet be extracted. As one of the chief features of the popular image of the garaboncos, I take at once the vividly recurrent belief concerning the blessing and cursing of the earth, the fields — around which the numerous subsidiary features revolve. This in itself points to an ancient pagan religious concept of tempestarii — storm-priests — of a kind which we possess in the garaboncos.
The Roman Twelve Tables already mention: qui fruges excantassit, vel alienam segetem pellexerit — "whoever bewitches the crops, or entices away another's harvest." Among other peoples: the Visigothic law speaks of malefici immissores tempestatum, qui quibusdam incantationibus grandinem in vineas messesque mittere perhibentur — "malefactors who send storms, who by certain enchantments are said to send hail upon vineyards and harvests." Charlemagne's capitulary orders: ut cauculatores et incantatores, nec tempestarii vel obligatores fiant; et ubicumque sunt emendentur vel damnentur — "that there be no sorcerers and enchanters, nor storm-priests nor binders; and wherever they are found, let them be corrected or condemned."
We know them more fully from the writing of Bishop Agobard of Lyon (d. 840): In his regionibus pene omnes homines, nobiles, ignobiles, urbani, rustici, senes et iuvenes putant grandines et tonitrua hominum libitu posse fieri — "In these regions nearly all people — noble and common, city-dweller and peasant, old and young — believe that hail and thunder can be produced at human will." They say upon hearing thunder and seeing lightning: aura levatitia est — "it is a summoned wind." Asked what aura levatitia means, some answer with a faint twinge of conscience, others with the boldness customary to the ignorant, that the wind has been raised incantationibus hominum, qui dicuntur tempestarii — "by the enchantments of those called storm-priests." These tempestarii too were appeased by special offerings: his habent statutum, quantum de frugibus suis donent, et appellant hoc canonicum — "they have established how much of their crops to give them, and they call this the canonical due."
The popular image of our garaboncos perfectly corresponds to this pan-European phenomenon of the storm-priest.
Equally significant is the feature that the garaboncos are imagined with a book — which again points to the priestly, pagan religious practice of reading and chanting, which survived in the popular memory of kiolvasás — "reading forth" — and ráolvasás — "reading over, incanting" — and in the legendary belief in wondrous magical books. This concept may also be paralleled with similar pagan remnant-images elsewhere; and for these I invoke especially the sought meaning of kara — "black" — in the compound garaboncos, connecting it to the German Schwarzkünstler, "black-artist," and still more to the Slavic černokňažník, čarodějník. Today both simply mean "sorcerer, enchanter," but the Slavic name still clearly explains the practice of this enchantment: čara, čáry — "lines, marks"; dějník — "maker, doer": that is, the maker of marks, the writer. Still nearer is černí — "black" — and černokňažník, which in Slavic popular tradition is precisely the garaboncos: the "black-book-man," the man of the black book.
The Deák — The Scholar
Explanatory further for the garaboncos and generally for the wandering, house-visiting character is the name deák, with which the folk tradition possesses the full name: garabonciás deák. Deák is our old word meaning literatus, doctus, scholasticus — a learned, trained man. Since learning in the Middle Ages was confined to the Latin language, the name later came to be applied to latinus and lingua latina. Some have therefore derived it from diaconus or from Dacia.
But neither the priority of the deacon's name over all other priestly and Latin-spreading offices, nor a supposed derivation from the ancient Dacian province — which by the time of our ancestors' arrival had long since ceased to be the flourishing Roman colony of Trajan — can satisfactorily explain the name's origin.
The name deák is, in my view, an old and original Hungarian word. I seek it in a very notable national-genealogical, historical, legendary memorial in our chronicles, which plainly dates from a time when our nation did not yet know Latin scholarship, and therefore appears to use the name still in its garaboncos-related meaning.
The chronicles tell of the Battle of Eisenach, where the defeated Hungarian army was left with only seven survivors, who were sent home as messengers with their ears cut off. Of their further fate the chronicles report: "The Hungarians who returned alive as seven without ears, since they had not chosen death with their companions — the community is said to have pronounced this sentence upon them: that they should be deprived of all they possessed, both real and moveable property, separated from their wives and children, forced to go barefoot, and permitted to possess nothing of their own, but to wander always together, begging from tent to tent, until they had conquered."
They were called by two names: the first, magyarkák — "little Hungarians," a mockery; the second, gyák — which in the variants appears as gyak, tziak, gijak, and in one case gyoz. This second name, I believe, is our word deák.
Their further characterization shows why: they too — stripped of everything — go about like those garaboncos and popular wandering scholars, ragged, barefoot, begging from house to house. And their descendants, under Saint Stephen, wandered in whole companies as buffoon singers — trossatores, trufatores, iocastae — "per domos et tabernas cantando," singing from house to house. Saint Stephen finds them thus, and their multiplied descendants, who had by now formed themselves into such singing-scholar companies going about the land — perhaps already blending with the garaboncos-scholars themselves. Considering that in those pagan times and at the beginning of the kingdom they could not perform their rightful duties, he pardons them and, forbidding them their wandering scholarly life, has their still-pagan companies converted to the Christian faith and received into the institution or monastery of Saint Lazarus of Esztergom. Thus they receive their third name, and those who were originally the Seven Magyars, later the buffoon-singer deákok, are in the Christian era called szencsentek — "the beggars of Saint Lazarus."
With the name deák, therefore, we possess the learned, táltos-like, singing, garaboncos, scholarly, and communal-life qualities expressed — as the concepts literatus and studiosus (and specifically the student in a communal state, for the solitary man is not a deák, only a learner) still convey, and as especially the popular memory, which until recent times knew its deákok as wandering, begging singers, confirms.
Colophon
This is the first English translation of Chapter XV ("Papok" — Priests) of Arnold Ipolyi's Magyar Mythologia, published by Heckenast, Budapest, 1854. The Hungarian text was drawn from a pdftotext extraction of the original 1854 edition (718 pages), accessed via the Internet Archive. The OCR quality is moderate: nineteenth-century Hungarian orthography and the use of varied typefaces (Roman, italic, Fraktur for German quotations, Greek) have introduced some character-level degradation, particularly in footnotes and marginalia.
This translation was made directly from the Hungarian original. The Latin chronicle quotations embedded in Ipolyi's text are preserved as he gives them; he provides his own Hungarian summaries and interpretations of these passages, which are translated here. The Greek passage from Theophylaktos is partially degraded in the OCR and is referenced but not reproduced. Ipolyi's footnotes, which are primarily bibliographic citations and cross-references to other chapters of the Magyar Mythologia, are omitted from this translation; scholars requiring the full apparatus should consult the 1854 edition directly.
The translation covers the core of Chapter XV: the sections on the táltos, bölcsek, javas, and garaboncos diák, including the subsection on the deák name. The chapter header lists additional topics — bírák (judges), bádosok, sztrázsamester élet (watchman's life), and further priestly names and offices — which continue beyond the sections translated here. These await future translation.
The folk material reproduced here was collected by Ipolyi and his correspondents in the 1840s and 1850s, primarily from the Debrecen, Kecskemét, Fehér county, and Lake Balaton regions of Hungary. The collection numbers (gy. 47, 56, 59, 71, 93, 203, 204, 254, 256, 290, 304) refer to items in Ipolyi's personal folklore collection. The Karcsay communications refer to materials deposited in the Hungarian National Museum (u. múzeumban).
Arnold Ipolyi (1823–1886) was born in Ipolykeszi (now Kosihy nad Ipľom, Slovakia), studied theology and philosophy at Vienna and Esztergom, and served as a Catholic priest and later as Bishop of Besztercebánya. His Magyar Mythologia was both celebrated and attacked upon publication — celebrated for its unprecedented scope, attacked by some contemporaries who questioned whether such a systematic mythology could be reconstructed from such fragmentary evidence. Ipolyi was so affected by the criticism that he reportedly burned his folklore collection. Despite this, the work has never been superseded and remains the foundation of all subsequent study of Hungarian pre-Christian religion.
Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.
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Source Text: Magyar Mythologia — XV. Papok
Hungarian source text from Arnold Ipolyi, Magyar Mythologia, Budapest: Heckenast, 1854, Chapter XV, pp. 447–461. Extracted via pdftotext from the Internet Archive digital scan of the 1854 edition. The OCR quality is moderate — nineteenth-century Hungarian typefaces, mixed Latin/Greek passages, and decorative elements have introduced character-level degradation. Diacritical marks and special characters are partially preserved. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.
Chapter Opening and the Táltos
XV. PAPOK.
Vallásunk papjairól élénk történeti adalok s névemlétek maradtak fen. Theophylaktos mondja, hogy a turkoknak papjaik vannak, kik is a jövőt tudtokra adni vélik. — Régi nyelvünk fentartá még a táltos pogány papi nevet, e szerint a táltosok a régi pogány magyarok bölcsei és papjai (Sándor, Kreszn.). A bécsi codexb. (e. l. 96, 99, 109) Dániel 2 és 4 fejezetében, a vulgátai szöveg idegen papi nevei között, a mágust ezen saját pogány papi nevünkkel találjuk fordítva: „parancsola kedeg kiral bog egbe hivattatnának az oltáron nezőc, a táltosoc, a gonosz tevőc — bog királynac megjelentenec ő álmait;" és: „a titkot, mellet kiral kérd, a bölcsek, táltosoc, oltáron nezőc ... nem jelenthetic."
Mythosunkban egy rokon név és fogalommal már találkoztunk a táltos ló nevében; ott is a magicus, proteus, vertumnus magyarázatot találtuk, mely szerint a nyelv és rege még egy mesés, bűvös, tátos lovat ismer, itt a helye a név mélyebb vizsgálatába ereszkedni. A táltos és tátos szavak nyilván azonosak, bennök a felvett összevont rövidítés, vagy az elhagyott általi hosszítás, a népies kimondás által történő, lényegtelen különbözésnek tekinthető, mint koldus és kódus, folt és fót, bulcsu és búcsu. Ugyanazon gyökök lehet a tat vagy tal.
Folk Beliefs
De ismeri egyiránt a táltos nevet hozzá kötött élénk reges emlékezettel a néphagyomány is. Közlöm itt egész terjedelmükben az e felöli adataimat. Gy. 203 Fehér közléséből: a tátos (a szavat úgy írom, mint az egyes közleményekben áll) lehet ember és ló. mind a kettő fogakkal születik a világra, ha a tátosgyermeket a bába alájalja és felfedezi, hogy fogai vannak, az elvész, elviszik t. i. a többi tátosok, de hat tátosnak születni kell, kiképeztetés által senki tátos nem lehet. A tátos rendszerint komoly, gondolkodó és szomorú; neki meg kell vívnia, és pedig egy bikával, a vívaskor ő is bikává lesz, és mind kettőnek, midőn összecsapnak, tüzes láng jön ki szájokból. ha a tátos a bikát meggyőzte elmegy vándorolni, és magának társat keres. A tátos-ló mindég rósz és sovány, míg a tátos meg nem veszi. midőn a tátos ily lóra talál, ára után tudakozódik, ha jutányosan kínálják vele, ott hagyja, és mind addig meg nem veszi, míg ennek a gazda illő árát nem kéri. ha a tátos ily lón szert tesz, megy rajta mint a gondolat, a táltost a kard és golyó nem fogja, azért rendesen katonáskodik. — ha tátos ember meghal, kavicsot tesznek szájába, mert máskép lefalja a holdat, a mely gyermek karácsony estvéjén születik, abból természetesen tátos lesz. a tátos ember tudja ugyan az elrejtett kincseket, melyek a földben vannak, de nem szabad neki hozzájuk nyúlni.
Egy más közlés belátásra áll az u. muzeumb. (2. 500 Karcsaytól): „a táltos-ember fogakkal jön a világra, nem vált fogakat; de ha a bába vagy más kibeszéli a titkot, akkor a táltos gyermeket föl nem lehet nevelni, elhal azonnal, állatok is szülnek táltost, különösen a lovak, s azt is csak titkon lehet felnevelni, s akkor csak táltos-ember használhatja. ha egy táltos-ember egy táltos-lovat szerzett, azzal nagy dolgokat visz véghez a háborúban, különösen nagy győzelme leszen. a táltosnak tudománya nagy, ő tudja hol rejtőznek a kincsek a földben, de nincs hatalma azt fölvehetni; azonban tehetségében áll alakját változtatni, különféle állatformát vehet magára; jobbára pásztor vagy béres alakjában lappang, minden hetedik évben kénytelen elmenni más országba és az ottani táltossal megvívni, s a melyik e vívásban győz, annak országa az évben igen termékeny leend."
The Kampó Legend
Érdekesben tüntetik fel még a tátosróli képzetet egyes regék, ilyen különösen élénken szól Kampó nevű táltosról (gy. 290 Debrecenitől): a jégtestű (?), alacsony termetű, vastag lábszárú Kampó táltos Temesvárott lakott, honnét Budára a királyhoz szokott volt járni ebédre. Mátyás király mindig igen megsüvegölte őtet; miért is a királyné igen átallá a dolgot, és sokszor kérdezte urát, váljon micsoda oknál fogva tartja oly nagy tiszteletben ő hitvány embert? a király megunta már, s végre egyszer felelet helyett felszólítá Kampót, mutatná meg emberségét a királyné előtt, más nap eljővén Kampó táltos ebédre, a palota ajtó kinyitásakor felső állkapcáját az ajtó felső részébe, alsó állkapcsát pedig a küszöbbe akasztá, s a királyi palotába tüzet okáda; a királyné rémültében székébe hanyatlott — de csak hamar Kampó ölében termett.
The Garaboncos Folk Beliefs
a garaboncosdeák a mai néphit szerint közönségesen a boszorkány fiának tartatik, de bár ki fia is lehet, nm. ha csak a fő kellék megvan, hogy a 13-dik iskoláját elvégezze; miként a néphit a boszorkányt véli szülejének, úgy az ördögöt tudja ezen iskola mesterének, közönségesen rongyosan, fáradtan, könyvvel hónuk alatt nyargalnak faluról falura, és kéregetve köszöntenek be a házakba; ha üresen igazítják el, különösen ha kenyér és tej megtagadtatik tőlük, a határra vészt hoznak, rögtön szélvész kerekedik, jégeső, zápor veri el a szőlőket, és árazija el a vetéseket; ők gerjesztik a villámot is s mennydörgést, ilyenkor a nép setét felhőkben véli látni alakjokat; széttárt köpönyegben, nyitott könyvből olvasva, olykor ismét sárkányon ülve látja őket repülni a levegőben.
Karcsaynál (u. muz. 2. 499): „a garabonciás a 13 iskolát végzett diákból lesz, ki a szerencse kerekén el nem veszett, a 12 iskolát végzett diák elmegy messze messze országba, vízen és tengereken át, sok veszedelmen keresztül, azután be jut egy barlangba, ott társakra talál, azokkal tanulja a 13-dik iskolát; midőn 12-en együtt vannak, ráülnek a szerencse kerekére, ez gyorsan forog velük, egynek közülük bizonyosan el kell veszni rajta, azért félelemmel állnak rá, mert nem tudják, hogy ki fog elveszni közülük, de arra elszánvák mindnyájan, a kik e nagy próbát kiállották 11-en garaboncosokká válnak, s mennek szerte a világban garaboncos mesterségeket űzni, sovány képpel s rongyos köpönyeggel, kéregetnek leginkább tejet s kenyeret, átkoznak, a ki nem ad nekik a mit kérnek; sok nem kell nekik, de nem szabad nekik törni, hanem egész kenyeret kell nekik adni, ők maguk vágnak belőle egy darabkát; kezdetlen köcsögből maguk veszik ki részüket, s áldást mondnak érte a házra, ha hol elutasíttattak, azt mondják: asszony vagy gazda! megbánod tettedet, most az egyszer örömest! egy fertály óra múlva, de késő lesz! — utánuk nyomban vihar kel, a ház tetejét leveti, s a gabonára sok ártalmat hoz. ... a sárkány is csak akkor jön elő, midőn a garaboncos kiimádkozza, titkos könyvéből olvasván rá, melyből senki más olvasni nem tud. az így kibűvölt sárkányt megnyergeli s förgetegben villámsebeséggel megy rajta szerecsen országba, hol levágja, húsát igen drágán eladja a szerecseneknek, kik a szörnyű forróságot csak úgy állhatják ki, hogy nyelvük alatt sárkányhús darabkákat hordanak, a mi hűvösíti őket; tömérdek aranynyal s drága kövekkel, gyémántokkal tér vissza onnét a garaboncás diák. ... a garaboncás és táltos közt az a különbség, hogy amaz tanulás által lesz azzá, saját akaratából s ösztönéből, ha sikerül a próbát kiállnia; a táltos pedig úgy születik azzá, maga sem tehet róla, a planéta, melyben született, hozza azt magával."
The Book of Wisdom
(gy. 204 Fehértől): „a garaboncos hatalma leginkább a kiolvasásban áll, mit a bölcseség könyvéből szokott tenni, s melyből különösen a sárkányokat tudja rejtekhelyükből kiolvasni; mily erős hatalom rejlik egyébkint is ezen bölcseség könyvében, melylyel minden garaboncos el van látva, mutatja, um. a következő történet, egyszer egy paraszt ember kijutott az országúton kétökrös szekerével, és előtalált egy rongyos embert, kinek vállán tarisznya lógott, kérte, venné fel szekerére, a paraszt felvette, az pedig fáradtan feküdt le a szekérbe, miután tarisznyáját nyakábul levéve a lőcsre akasztotta; mire elaludt a paraszt kíváncsi volt megtudni, mi van a tarisznyában; benyúlt s egy könyvet húzott elő, bele néz, s szeme megakadt a szón, mely így volt megírva „felmegyünk" alig olvasta el a szavat, az országútja emelkedni kezdett, az ökrök mindig feljebb és feljebb mentek, már oly magasra jöttek, hogy a nap a parasztot s az ökröket égetni kezdette, de a szegény paraszt csak bámult a könyvbe, míg a nap végre az alvót is felkeltötte álmából; felébredve, elijedve látja könyvét a paraszt kezében, kiragadta hamar, egyet fordított a levélen, s olvasni kezdé „lemegyünk" az út azonnal leereszkedett, s nem sokára le is jutottak a földre, szerencséd, mond ekkor a könyv tulajdonosa, hogy a könyvet oda fent be nem csuktad, mert ha a nélkül becsapod, hogy a „lemegyünköt" olvastad, azonnal lepotytyantva, izzé porrá törtünk volna össze, a paraszt már ekkor tudta, kivel van dolga, a garaboncos deák is megköszönte a paraszt szívességét és elvált; de ő is megfogadta, hogy soha többé ringy rongy embert szekerére nem vesz."
Source Colophon
Hungarian source text from Arnold Ipolyi, Magyar Mythologia, Budapest: Heckenast Gusztáv, 1854. Chapter XV ("Papok"), pp. 447–461. The 1854 edition is in the public domain. Source text extracted via pdftotext from the Internet Archive digital scan. The OCR has introduced moderate degradation to diacritical marks and special characters in the nineteenth-century Hungarian orthography; scholars requiring precise text should consult the facsimile scan directly. The folk material was collected from oral tradition in the 1840s–1850s; it is traditional Hungarian folk material and is not subject to copyright. The source text presented here includes representative passages from the chapter — the introduction, folk belief sections, and the major legends — rather than the complete chapter text, as the full OCR extraction runs to approximately eight hundred lines with extensive bibliographic apparatus and footnotes that are partially illegible due to OCR degradation.
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