A solitary figure sits before a brass triangle, the name PURSON inscribed along the edge. The candle flickers, and the smoke thickens. The practitioner has read the list of spirits before. Bael, three-headed and commanding the east. Paimon, crowned and riding a dromedary, with two hundred legions behind him. But Purson stands apart. Purson is a Great King of Hell, ruling twenty-two legions in the Ars Goetia. He appears as a lion-headed man riding a bear, carrying a serpent. He reveals hidden treasures and all things past, present, and future. The question is not whether he will come. It is whether he is easier to bind than Bael, or more dangerous than Paimon.

Compare Purson with other Goetic demons: his rank, appearance, powers, and practical use differ from those of Bael, Paimon, and Vassago in ways that affect how a summoner works with him.

Where the Lists Begin

Where the Lists Begin

The oldest surviving description of Purson appears in the Pseudomonarchia Daemonum (1583), a catalog of spirits compiled by the German physician Johann Weyer. Weyer drew from earlier manuscripts, notably the Liber Officiorum Spirituum, a fifteenth-century grimoire that grouped spirits by rank and function. In Weyer’s list, Purson is the twentieth spirit: “a great king, appears in the shape of a man with a lion’s face, riding a bear, and carrying a serpent; he knows hidden things, can find treasures, and gives good familiars.”

When the Lesser Key of Solomon (the Lemegeton) was compiled in the mid-seventeenth century, the editors kept Purson’s entry almost verbatim. The Ars Goetia, the first book of the Lemegeton, places him as the twentieth spirit among the seventy-two. The seal assigned to him is a circle with a cross inside, flanked by two crescent moons. The Mathers-Crowley edition of 1904 reproduced that seal.

Bael, the first spirit, had been in Weyer’s list as well, described as a king who rules in the east and appears with three heads (a toad, a man, a cat). Paimon, the ninth spirit, is a great king who rules in the west and commands two hundred legions. He appears as a crowned man riding a dromedary, with a host of spirits blowing trumpets. The hierarchy is clear: Bael is the first, Paimon the most powerful among the kings, and Purson a lesser king with only twenty-two legions. But lesser does not mean weaker. It means his domain is narrower.

What the Lion, the Bear, and the Serpent Tell You

The appearance of a Goetic spirit is not ornamental. It encodes the spirit’s nature and jurisdiction. Bael’s three heads suggest adaptability and cunning over brute force. Paimon’s dromedary and trumpets evoke a ceremonial procession, befitting a spirit who teaches the arts and binds other spirits. Purson’s imagery is more primal: the lion’s head for royalty and courage, the bear for endurance and earthbound strength, the serpent for hidden wisdom.

We read Purson’s mount as a deliberate choice. The bear is a creature of the deep forest, of caves and hibernation, of treasures buried in the earth. The serpent coils around objects of value. Together, they point to a spirit whose primary concern is concealed things: buried treasure, lost knowledge, secrets that have been deliberately hidden. Paimon, by contrast, is concerned with open knowledge, with the arts and sciences that can be taught. Bael is concerned with power and invisibility.

This distinction matters when you decide which spirit to call. If you need to find a physical object, a lost document, or a forgotten piece of history, Purson is the natural choice. If you need to learn a skill or compel another spirit, you call Paimon. If you need to walk unseen among enemies, you call Bael.

How You Spoke to Each

The summoning methods for the Goetic kings share a common structure: a circle, a triangle, the spirit’s seal, and the appropriate conjurations. But the specific conditions differ. The Ars Goetia does not assign planetary hours to individual spirits in the modern editions, but early practitioners like the members of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn (1888) developed elaborate systems. In the 1898 translation by S. L. MacGregor Mathers, each spirit is given a preferred time of day and a planetary correspondence. Purson, according to Mathers, is ruled by Mars. That places him in the hour of Mars, on a Tuesday, during a waxing moon if the goal is acquisition.

Bael is ruled by the Sun, which makes Sunday and the hour of the Sun his time. Paimon is ruled by Venus, so Friday and the hour of Venus. The practitioner who mixes these up risks the spirit not appearing or arriving in a hostile mood. The fire is not decoration. It is the altar.

We light ours in a fireproof bowl on the balcony, using charcoal tablets and frankincense resin. The smoke must be steady. The seal must be drawn on virgin parchment, never printed. The conjuration is spoken aloud, not memorized from a page. These are the same for all seventy-two spirits, but the seal and the hour are what distinguish one from another.

What the Hierarchy Actually Means

The legions a spirit commands are not a measure of raw power but of reach. Bael rules sixty-six legions. Paimon rules two hundred. Purson rules twenty-two. That puts Purson closer to the dukes and presidents in terms of the number of spirits under him. But rank is distinct from legion count. Purson is a king, and kings can compel other spirits from the same rank. A duke cannot.

The practical consequence: if you bind Purson, you can command him to send other spirits to do your work. If you bind a duke like Astaroth (forty legions, but a duke), you cannot compel him to send a king. The summoner with a working relationship with Purson gains access to the entire hierarchy of the twenty-two legions he commands. That is a small army compared to Paimon’s two hundred, but it is still an army.

Vassago is a prince, not a king, but he shares Purson’s ability to reveal hidden things and past events. The difference is that Vassago is described as “good of nature” and more willing to answer questions without coercion. Purson is a king, and kings require formality. You do not chat with Purson. You petition him, and you offer the traditional gifts of frankincense, wine, and a silver coin.

A Common Mistake

One of the most persistent errors in modern Goetic writing is the assumption that all kings are equal in power and temperament. That is not what the grimoires say. Bael is the first king, but he is not the most powerful. Paimon is the most powerful. Purson is a king with a specific domain, not a general-purpose ruler. A summoner who calls Purson for a love spell is wasting his time. He should call Sitri or Beleth instead.

Another error is treating Purson as a demon of war because of the lion and bear. The lion and bear are predators, yes, but the serpent is not a weapon. It is a symbol of knowledge. The Goetia does not list Purson among the spirits who can cause destruction or discord. That is the domain of spirits like Sabnock (building towers and fortresses, and causing wounds) or Berith (lying and causing strife). Purson is a revealer, not a destroyer.

FAQ

What is Purson’s rank in the Goetia?
Purson is a Great King of Hell, the twentieth spirit in the Ars Goetia, ruling twenty-two legions of spirits.

Can Purson harm the summoner?
No spirit in the standard Goetia is described as inherently harmful to the practitioner if summoned correctly within the circle and triangle. The danger is in the binding, not the spirit itself.

How does Purson differ from Paimon?
Paimon is a more powerful king (two hundred legions) who teaches the arts and sciences, while Purson specializes in hidden treasures and past events. Paimon appears with a dromedary and a procession; Purson rides a bear and carries a serpent.

What is the best way to summon Purson?
For a traditional approach, use the hour of Mars on a Tuesday, with a waxing moon if the goal is acquisition. Draw his seal on virgin parchment, burn frankincense, and recite the conjuration from the Ars Goetia.

The King in the Archive

Purson is not the first spirit you learn. That is usually Bael, because he is first in the list. But for the practitioner who deals in lost things, in objects and knowledge that have been buried, Purson is the more direct route. He does not teach. He shows. The bear carries him, and the serpent coils around his arm. That image is older than the Ars Goetia, older than Weyer, older than the Liber Officiorum Spirituum. It is the image of a spirit who guards the thresholds of the earth, and who opens them for those who know how to ask.

If you want to explore the full hierarchy of the seventy-two spirits, start with our guide to the structure of the Ars Goetia. For a deeper look at the symbols each spirit carries, see the glossary entry for Goetic seals. And if you are ready to compare the three kings of the tradition, read our guide to Bael, Purson, and Paimon. The fire is not decoration. It is the altar.