Taurus Man and Leo Woman Compatibility
Alas, he would not listen. He was determined to show who
was master in that house.
May a Bull aspire to own a queen? Most Bulls are more at home in a china shop than in the presence of royalty, and you know how flustered they are in a china shop. They’re not frightened by the pomp and pageantry, but all that bowing and scraping and riding around in golden carriages – and coronations that last for days, while everyone gets tipsy, and stops working – is just plain “too much fuss and feathers” for the sensible Taurus man.
He isn’t unappreciative of beauty. Most Taureans have a latent (or exposed) talent for artistic form, through painting, dancing, sculpting or music. But his biggest talent is looking at the world through practical glasses. He saves both his money and his emotions for a good cause, and throwing either away on red carpets and crowns is not, to his way of thinking, a good cause.
A Leo girl is looking for a man who recognizes her as a Queen, who can (in addition to cherishing and adoring her) provide her with the kind of life she knows she deserves. She wants a lover or mate who will allow her to live in the style to which she would like to become accustomed, surrounded by luxury and literate friends .. . an existence overflowing with beautiful clothes, parties and brainy conversations, with rings on her fingers, bells on her toes, and maybe even an occasional photographic safari to Africa – or summers on the Riviera. “July and August are so unpleasant in Manhattan (or Los Angeles) don’t you agree? All those tourists.” (Translation: peasants.)
You can understand then, why she feels a little tense and restless if the Taurus man she loves expects her to hang around in a small apartment, bringing him his beer and pretzels, while he watches television and reads the Wall Street Journal in his stocking feet. How mundane and plebeian. So she surprises him one night. She brings him a pitcher of ice cold Perrier water, with a slice of lime, and a delicate china plateful of triscuits, spread with caviar – hands him New York magazine, folded to the back pages of the homes-for-sale listings (beginning at around $200,000) and lovingly tucks a cozy, comfy – and modish – pair of house slippers from Saks’ on his feet. He mumbles his gratitude softly, and smiles at her affectionately.
The next night, when she comes home from the hairdresser late (because he didn’t give her money for a cab, and the subways were crowded), he’s still sitting there, grumbling over her tardiness, with his beer and pretzels, watching the six o’clock news on TV, in his stocking feet. The slippers were too tight, and anyway, he thinks men who wear house slippers are sissified. New York magazine? What magazine? House listings? What house listings? Later, she finds the magazine spread out neatly under the kitty litter box in the pantry. Obviously, something has to give. It won’t be the Bull.
Bulls don’t back away. They either hold their ground – or they charge. She’s better off resigning herself to her Taurean lover or mate’s holding his ground, than to risk goading him into charging. Believe me. Still, if she’s willing to wait, and not rush him, he may someday provide her with all those things she seeks, including the rings on her fingers and bells on her toes – maybe even a lovely home in the suburbs, or a wonderfully warm and beautiful remodeled barn in the country, complete with fireplaces, beams or rafters, and the sweet scent of new-mown hay drifting through the windows each morning. He may not reach his goal of security overnight, but she’ll never find a man with a better chance (counting her invaluable help) to someday present her with her very own kingdom over which to rule. Just give him time, and don’t nag him.
In 1971, when I visited the Hearst “castle” in California, the estate of the late William Randolph Hearst (a Sun Sign Taurus), the image of the Bull was everywhere. A determined Taurean male, slowly but surely building a newspaper empire, stacking up millions, then creating – from a private dream of love in his incurably romantic heart – a solid, tangible faerie-tale castle, not imaginary in any sense of the word. The furniture in the several-hundred-odd rooms is massive. Everything in and on the estate is bigger than Life, bigger than it need be, typical of the Taurean admiration for plain and simple hugeness. The larger, the better, for the Bull. Wherever I looked, I could see the Venus taste for life’s “necessary luxuries,” like the gold bathroom fixtures, pure silk wallpaper, thick Persian rugs, and ornate (large, of course) expensive marble statuary.
Every male Bull should drop by the Hearst castle to see what Taurus dreams look like when they finally come true. If he’s in love with a Lioness, by all means, he should take her along. She’ll be enthralled, and purr like a kitten all the way home. It will perhaps then dawn on her that his stocking feet are leading him in the same direction – and if she helps, not hinders, his plodding path, he’ll get there. This could be just the male who might someday give the Lioness her very own yacht for her birthday. (Maybe she’d better image that occasion as their anniversary. He’ll probably be much more sentimental about the latter date than the former.)
When the Bull has finally accomplished his mission in life – a comfortable home, and a large collection of Washingtons, Lincolns and Jeffersons (not paintings – green bills), the Lioness will surround him with her own touches of richness. She’ll see that he’s comfy and cozy, padding around in his stocking feet on thick carpets, under soft lights, to the sound of stereophonic violins, smothered with constant attention and bathed in a smooth, serene existence. Nothing could make him happier.
But while he’s still laying the foundation and digging the hole for the cornerstone, he won’t want to take the time to dally at court. He’ll resent being expected to run around to parties, play politics with her friends, wait on her royal whims and feather dust her throne. All that foolishness of continually pampering her pride and plumping up her ego seems to him like a shameful waste of time, and Bulls do not like to waste time, any more than they like to waste money (which, as you know by now, is not at all).
Although these two Sun Signs are square, and therefore capable of clashing violently over their differences, if they hang in there until the clouds start showing their silver linings, it could be super. They’ll find each other great company as they wander through the tower rooms, feed the swans on the lake, share romantic dinners by candlelight, pull up the drawbridge over the moat, and pull on velvet ropes for the servants to turn down the satin sheets on their imported canopy beds. Yes, I said beds – plural. They’ll probably have separate boudoirs, because the Lioness will likely want her own dressing room. She has to have, after all, some place to keep her creams, lotions, perfumes, bath oils and manes (hairpieces).
If they’re patient…. well, Taurus is patient, so at least half the problem is solved. She, however, is a Fire Sign, and Fire Signs are all a little short on patience. It makes the preliminary period of castle building somewhat fraught with fretting and tricky tensions, all the way from minor molehills to major mountains. In the interim, while they’re dreaming of their two monograms entwined inside a heart etched on their Fostoria, silver, linens and fine china, they can idle away what few leisure hours the Bull can afford, making love. It could be one of the few times when they’ll be in complete agreement. On the other hand, it could not. Much depends on the Moon-Sun relationship between their horoscopes.
On the positive side of the Luminary harmony in their nativities, there’s the physical compatibility they can reach together. A Leo woman is proud and aloof, even distant, with strangers. But when she’s wrapped up in the arms of the man she truly loves, she becomes a fierce Lioness, who fairly oozes affection and sex appeal. The Bull won’t fight with her when she’s running her gentle hands through his hair, smoothing his skin, massaging his back, kissing his ear, and stroking his hand.
A Taurus man is almost helplessly vulnerable to the touch, the sound and the scent of his woman, and since Leo females nearly all adore perfume, he’ll whiff away contentedly, like the peaceful Disney Ferdinand the Bull, in his most blissful state of ecstasy. His strength is awesome, yet this man is always in danger of becoming a Samson in the clutches of a sensuous, Leonine Delilah. He’s ruled by Venus, and nothing brings him more peace of mind and spirit than fulfilling his deep, earthy romantic desires with a passionate Lioness – unless it’s counting a stack of fresh, new green bills, or sniffing a home-baked apple pie, just out of the oven.
On the negative side, if the exchange of energies from the Sun and the Moon in their respective birth charts is square or opposed, there must be some heavy adjustments made in relation to the sexual harmony they achieve. He may slowly and gradually, but very finally, tire of trying to please her and to feed her insatiable ego, if he’s forced to frequently sleep alone – or face her bored back in bed – when he hasn’t made her feel cherished enough during the day to make her feel he deserves her royal favors at night.
Or perhaps she’s the one who will slowly and gradually, but very finally, become weary of secretly wishing he’d try harder to fulfill her physical needs by making her feel adored and intensely desired, sexually. The Bull’s sensual, down-to-earth, and sometimes unimaginative lovemaking may leave her lying awake beside him, hour after hour, dreaming of the Prince who never comes to claim her waiting heart… shedding quiet tears she’s too proud to let him see, or to ever tell him about. And after a while, the warm-hearted, high-spirited and affectionate Lioness may become totally frigid.
Frigidity is ever a lurking danger with the instinctively passionate Leo woman. If she’s continually neglected, from her fiery dreams and desires of youth she’ll freeze into the cool detachment of the Leonine nature, a defense mechanism that’s not natural, and is always very sad. Detachment because – what Queen would allow anyone to guess she isn’t completely worshiped? Not even the Prince Consort who has so tragically failed her will be permitted to glimpse her broken heart, or be made aware of her terrible emptiness and loneliness. False pride is every Leo’s Waterloo.
It’s his bull-headedness and her false pride combined that keeps them both restless (or resigned) and unfulfilled. Somehow, there’s a lack of honest communication between them. So they never discuss their individual lovemaking disappointments with one another – until love solidifies into nothing but a sort of comfortable familiarity and companionship – or shatters into divorce. Sometimes one or the other of these two lovers or mates will find escape through drink, drugs or casual affairs. But usually not. They’re both too basically honorable to be disloyal, too conscious of their reputations to make public fools of themselves – yet too stubborn (him) and too proud (her) to seek a solution, tenderly and gently .. . together. But it’s never too late for mutual confession and humility to create an unexpected miracle. They should both begin by remembering how it was between them when they first fell in love. The memory will soften them .. . and they can progress from there.
This is not a man who will appreciate his woman serving him dainty food, or pressing him into fastidious behavior at home or in public. She’ll discover that the first time he yells at her, during dinner, “Where’s the ketchup bottle?” “You call that a sandwich? Take it back to the kitchen and add a few layers.” Or – “How about a coffee mug, woman? These little china things give me the willies.”
Don’t ask where he got the word “willies.” Taureans have a way of manufacturing words that have a soft, cuddly sound, whether they’re insulting or complimentary. Did you ever have a Bull call you “Honey”? It’s an experience in total sensuality, which is no wonder, when they all have those deep, mellow, buttery voices, unmatched by any other man, except Scorpio.
She’ll accuse him of being sometimes slightly uncouth, and nearly always obstinate, as, of course, he definitely is. He’ll accuse her of being haughty, highand-mighty, and snobbish, as, of course she definitely is. What do you do, when one’s worst complaints against the other are justified and true? It’s simple. (Not easy, but simple.) She’ll have to comprehend that his lack of “couth” is simply indicative of his earthy, rather dependable nature, his contempt for the frivolous and the non-genuine – the phony. She’d do well to imitate it. She’ll also have to recognize that his obstinacy indicates his strength of character, and stop deliberately inciting it by behaving like a spoiled Queen, who pouts when she doesn’t win her own way. She can always get around his obstinacy if she tries, with amazing ease, simply by hugging and kissing and squeezing him into contentment again.
He must realize that her haughtiness is nothing but her inbred protection against exposing her fears of imagined inadequacy, therefore losing face and subjecting herself to painful ridicule – and stop deliberately causing it by refusing to acknowledge her very real superiority as a woman – and her deep need to be drenched in extravagant compliments. He can always get around her quite easily, by taking her out to sparkle in public more often, and showing her – especially telling her – that he’s aware of how lucky he is to have married a very super lady, in all ways. (Every Leo woman is just that, never mind her little failings.) His Lioness is enormously capable of both giving and receiving love, if only she’s properly appreciated and loved in return.
Whatever age the Bull may be, he’s a Teddy Bear at heart, the chubby, high-chair-stage symbolic Baby of the zodiac (as described in “The Twelve Mysteries of Love,” in the front of this book). I once knew a Leo woman who could not see her Taurus husband as any sort of “Teddy Bear,” or cuddly in any way. She saw him only as a stubborn, mature man, who believed in nothing but “the practical,” and who thought all sentiment was silly, sentimental rubbish. One day, I coaxed her into taking home to him a large stuffed, furry Bull. The kind of toy one normally gives to – yes, to a baby. He grunted.
That was it. Didn’t even say “thanks.” He completely ignored the furry image of himself – for weeks. The hurt and wounded Lioness placed it on the television, where he’d be sure to see it constantly, and still – not a word from the phlegmatic, undemonstrative Taurean. Then he became ill. During his illness, while he was asleep one morning, she happened to unthinkingly move the toy Bull from the television while she was cleaning. When her Taurus husband awoke from his nap, his roar could be heard all over the house. “WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BULL? WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY BULL?!!!” he shouted. She’ll learn.
The Bull and the Lioness will have to start listening to each other’s silent, pleading hearts when what she’s really saying, beneath her haughtiness, is – “Please, show me how much you love me” and what he’s really saying, beneath his stony stubbornness, is – “Please, promise me you’ll stay, and never leave me.”