Strangely, although they had many other areas of constant contention and argument, she quietly permitted him to take the credit for her courage without a trace of resentment. She well knew how much she owed him, and she also knew how much effort her strength and cheerfulness over the years cost her. But Taurus seldom fusses or quibbles about being overshadowed by the Leonine ego. She allowed him, even encouraged him, to take all the bows, and smiled to herself. Worship, however, she refused to give him, which made him a most unhappy monarch, and for which he perhaps never quite forgave her. But credit she willingly relinquished.
I once knew a Taurus man who worked as a registrar and assistant to the president of a Barber School in New Jersey. The president (the Bull's superior, of course) was a warm-hearted, brilliant, generous, typically proud and arrogant Leo - a Lion whose name was Dr. Andrew Julian. As a matter of fact, it still is. Why should he change it, when it's lettered in gold, stenciled, stitched or monogrammed on all his cuff links, shirts, briefcases, under-garments, (allegedly) towels and silverware? My Taurus friend and Dr. Julian benefit from a harmonious Sun-Moon aspect between their birth charts, so they still fondly admire and respect one another, although they no longer work together. Nevertheless, their business association fairly bristled with daily examples of the 4-10 Leo-Taurus relationship, its mutual helpfulness - and its pitfalls.
There was the time Dr. Julian held a private conference with an investor who wished to buy an interest in his Barber School. The investor was a millionaire, and uncommonly loose and magnanimous with his cash. He didn't care how much he invested, as long as he could visibly appear to run the operation - as long as the school would bear his name (never mind that he had no barbering experience).
Naturally, the Lion roared loudly at this double threat to his authority and affront to his prestige. For several hours, angry voices rose and fell from behind the closed door of the Lion's plush den - which is the only way to describe any Leo office. A plush den.
Finally, the door opened, and Dr. Julian commanded imperiously, "David! Come in here immediately!" (Leos seldom ask, they command, as befits royalty.) When the cautious Bull slowly walked into the firing line, the Lion waved a disdainful hand toward the angry investor and directed majestically, "Talk to him, David." Then Leo swirled around in his expensive swivel chair, pouting in injured dignity, and staring out the large picture window of his den - as though the other two men were not present. (The King did not deign to take any further notice of the peasants.)
After a few minutes of quiet questioning, the Bull uncovered the basic problem. The potential investor was an Aries. A Ram. It was his money, and by golly, he was going to be boss, and his name would be on the school. Nobody was going to order him around. The Taurean explained patiently that Dr. Julian was loved by all his teachers and students (he really was, they adored him, pride, arrogance and all), that he was furthermore highly respected by all the companies which did business with the school, with who he had established a warm rapport over the years (true).
Of course, these solid compliments were not missed by Leo. They rained like fragrant roses on the Lion's head, which was still turned away and facing the window. Then the Bull's rich, Taurean voice, deep and soothing, was heard by the secretary, floating over the transom, as he spoke calmly to the Aries investor. "Don't you think it would be smarter if Dr. Julian's name were to remain on the outside of the building, in all the advertising, and on the school's letterhead? Since he's had forty years' experience running a Barber School, wouldn't it be better if he continued to do so? However, it makes more sense, and it's more practical for you, Sir, to be the one who signs all the cheques, so the people at the bank will know you're the Financial Backer and Advisor of the operation. Why should you spend twelve hours a day here, as Dr.