Duke

The Canaanite goddess Astarte, three thousand years on, made a male duke of hell with her name intact. The Goetia has him discourse willingly on the fall of the spirits, and warns the operator to hold a ring to his face against the stench of his breath.

An old man riding a crocodile with a goshawk on his fist, credited with teaching every language and with hauling back anyone who has fled. The same entry has him causing earthquakes and stripping men of office, temporal and spiritual alike.

The book's arsonist: cities, castles and great houses set alight, by a three-headed spirit carrying a firebrand and riding a viper. The same entry has him making men clever and answering truly on private matters.

Speaks loudly and hoarsely from a great horse, red-faced and flaming-eyed like a lion — an alarming delivery for a spirit whose subjects are astronomy and the liberal sciences.

Preceded by trumpets and every kind of instrument playing with nobody visible to play them — one of the more theatrical entrances in the Ars Goetia. He makes music heard where he goes, bends trees to the operator's will, and gives excellent familiars.

Comes only while the Sun stands in Sagittarius, and comes with four kings and their companies behind him. What he gives is comprehension: the song of birds, the voices of other creatures, and treasure hidden by enchantment rather than by hand.

Moves people bodily from one country to another without warning, and knows the virtues of herbs and precious stones. He rides a pale horse in the shape of a strong man with a serpent's tail.

Turns any metal into gold, and is in the same breath called a great liar unless the operator compels him with the ring. He rides a red horse as a soldier in red crowned in gold, and is ranked duke in the Ars Goetia.

A spirit of the graveyard: he moves the dead from where they lie and gathers other spirits onto their tombs. He speaks with a high and comely voice from three heads — dog, griffin and man — on a dragon's body, and gives riches and eloquence.

Makes a great noise like the rushing of many waters, and speaks darkly of hidden things in the shape of an angel. His oddest credited power is domestic: he warms water, and finds baths.

Consulted chiefly about war — the Goetia credits him with knowing how a conflict will end before it does. He appears as a goodly knight with lance, ensign and serpent, and secures the goodwill of lords and knights.

Has power over the winds and the sea, drowns men and overturns ships of war — and will harm nobody at all, the Goetia adds, if he is commanded otherwise. He appears as a man with a griffin's wings.

A beautiful woman in a duchess's crown riding a great camel, and among the very few female forms in the seventy-two. She tells past and future, finds hidden treasure, and procures the love of women young and old.

Asked a question, he explains what the question means — the Goetia credits him with showing the sense of whatever is put to him, which is a stranger gift than mere foreknowledge. He takes the shape the text calls a xenopilus, a creature of strange face.

Lies about everything until he is commanded into the triangle, which is the Ars Goetia's standard remedy for a demon that will not answer. Compelled, he gives true answers on past and future, burns and destroys the operator's enemies, and discusses the creation of the world and his own fall.

His brief is the shortest of the seventy-two: he causes love between men and women, and the entry stops there. He is a crowned soldier riding a crocodile, and the Goetia describes him as peaceable.

Speaks Egyptian, and speaks it imperfectly — a detail the Goetia thought worth recording about a spirit whose offices are otherwise love, foreknowledge and reconciliation. He is a mighty dromedary before he is a man.

Offered as a good familiar with an unusual condition attached: he keeps company with the operator until he has tempted him into theft, and then until the theft is discovered. The Ars Goetia gives this duke the form of a lion with a braying ass's head.

His whole office is competence: every handicraft, every profession, and philosophy and the sciences besides, with nothing of war, love or treasure attached — unusual among the Goetic demons. He appears as a lion with griffin's wings.

Guides armed ships, or roughens the sea until they founder. Her other office is precise and grim: wounds that putrefy with worms and kill within three days. She appears as a mermaid.

His two offices sit badly together: he brings women to love men and brings the two together, and he also makes them barren. A duke of the Ars Goetia in the form of a soldier in red apparel and armour, and the text offers no reconciliation of the pair.

Wears the faces of every man and woman at once and carries a book. The Goetia gives him the broadest claim of the seventy-two — he knows the thoughts of everyone alive, and can change them.