Toldi - A medieval Myth about a Knight

This is the english translation of the hungarian Miklos Toldi , a hungarian knight's tale, who killed his brother and became a hero later. Of course it lost some favor in the process of translating it, but it's an awesome piece of literature, go read it, I wish they would make a movie out of it.

The historic (real life) Toldi:

Toldi legend

Around 1574 Peter Ilosvai Selymes recorded the story of Miklós Toldi (1320-1390) in verse. The hero (a landowner in county Bihar) had an adventurous life. He was also the vice ispán (bailiff)f and captain of Pozsony between 1352-1354, then he served as the Archbishop of Esztergom in 1355, and in the next decade he became a knight at the roayl court. Between 1363-64 he led the army sent by King Louis I to help Pope Orban V in Italy. He became a mercenary soldier there. In 1365 he was captured, then he returned, became the ispán (bailiff) of Gömör (1366-1371) and Szabolcs (1382-1385). Afterwards this he served King Sigismund for a short time. There was a folk legend about his adventures as early as the 15th century, which was preserved by folk traditions - besides Peter Ilosvai Selymes's work. The most beautiful work about his life is János Arany's Toldi trilogy.

here is a small preview (don't want to post the whole thing, i'll rather show you the link):

....But no, he does not care how it sifts the road
from end to end - through a tower of dust erected
by the wind, proud weapons glitter, proud troops
ascend A cloud of sighs rises from his heart like
those hazy troops. And bending forward, he stares
and stares as though heart and soul were fixed
in his eyes.

"Neat Hungarian cavaliers, shining knights! How beat
and bitter am I to see you. Where are you bound? How
far? Into battle? To gather flowers for a wreath of
glory? Are you riding against Tatars, Turks? To bid
them good night forever? Ah, if I too, I too were
only riding. Neat Hungarian cavaliers, shining knights!"

These were the thoughts that furrowed into Miklós
Toldi's soul. His head churned, and his heart was
wrung with sadness because he too was the son of a
knight. György, his false brother, was reared as
a companion of the royal heir. He lives it up in
the royal court while Miklós mows and rakes with
the hired hands.

Here they come, the mounted men of the Palatine
Laczfi, and at the head of his proud troops Endre
Laczfi himself. He sits with martial bearing on
his fallow horse, braids of gold on his robe. In
his train dashing young men ride in fancy saddles
on stamping stallions. Miklós stares and stares,
not knowing his eyes are sore for staring so hard.

"Hey peasant, where's the road to Buda?" Laczfi
asks disdainful and cold. The word cut to Toldi's
heart, which jumped so hard you could hear it.
"Hm, me a peasant!" he fumes. "Well, who but me
is lord of this village and land? Maybe György
Toldi, my foxy brother, setting dishes at the
court for King Louis?"

"Me a peasant, me?" With that he brought down a
terrible curse on György Toldi's head. And then
he lightly twirls the pole, grabbing one end like
a little stick. With a single hand he raises it up
long and straight, pointing out the road that trails
toward Buda. Arm hardening into iron, and himself,
he extends the rough-hewn timber straight as a rod.

When they behold Toldi with the long pole, the
Palatine and all his troops look on astounded. "This
is a man in his own right, whoever he is," speaks
Laczfi. "Who will take him on, boys? Or who will
point like that the sorry ****** this boy is using
to show the road?" What a comedown, what a shame.
They mutter and bluster, but who dares to match
a peasant boy!

Read the whole thing, you'll like it, i guarantee it :

http://mek.oszk.hu/00500/00595/html/epics2.htm