University of Virginia Library


156

THE BULL.

It's true, a beast is but a beast:
Man! be thou no less, at least.
Plaudits shake the Circus round,
No sluggard hath this Bull been found,
Three horses furiously he gores,
Pushes hard the Picadors,
In one mad sweep the Chulos drives
Over the barrier for their lives,
And, tail outstretch'd, black head low-bow'd,
Nucleus of a dusty cloud,
Flies round the orbit free of check,
Stung by the javelins in his neck.
What strikes the throng with such amaze?
Why start they from their seats to gaze?
One long low whistle hath the force
To curb the monster in his course;
From the seats a rustic Stranger
Vaults into the ring of danger,
Mildly calls the Bull by name,
‘Soberbio!’—and never came
A lamb more meekly to a child
Than comes to him the Strong and Wild.
Join'd in a gentle group they stand;
The hot Bull licks the Herdsman's hand,

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Whose other strokes his shivering ear
And soothes away the rage and fear;
Till—see!—with a contented moan
He lays his tortured body down,
And of his mountain pasture dreams,
Amid the cool Sierra streams.
The Crowd a general pity share.
That simple Herdsman could not bear
His favourite's pangs, and thus hath sought
His old friend's side, distrusting nought,
Trusting the faithful Beast aright,
Whose rankling pain, tumultuous fright,
Mock'd despair, revengeful rage,
One voice can with a word assuage.
Is it not so?—Nay, fool, not so!
This is a portion of our show;
Contrived a novel zest to bring
To the arena's bloody ring,
For even bull-fights pall at length;
And with his courage and his strength
The Brute's affection, duly paid for,
Helps our pastime,—what else made for?
Plaudits roar the Circus round.
The black Bull, startled by the sound,
Remembering all the wrong and pain,
Plunges to his feet again
And whirls the Herdsman over his head,—
‘Madre Santa! he is dead!’
A purse out of the wretch's breast
Drops before him to the dust,
And there with twisted neck he lies
Motionless upon his prize.

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Din springs up and mad commotion,
As on glossy tropic ocean
Fierce tornado's flail may strike;
Brilliant Chulos, leopardlike,
Bound in to the Herdsman's aid.
Too late. He now is both ways paid.
May all that true affection sell
Find it profit them as well!