The Faithful Bull 忠贞的公牛

One time there was a bull and his name was not Ferdinand and he cared nothing for flowers. He loved to fight and he fought with all the other bulls of his own age， or any age， and he was a champion.

His horns2） were as solid as wood and they were as sharply pointed as the quill3） of a porcupine4）. They hurt him， at the base， when he fought and he did not care at all. His neck muscles lifted in a great lump that is called in Spanish the morillo5） and this morillo lifted like a hill when he was ready to fight. He was always ready to fight and his coat was black and shining and his eyes were clear.

Anything made him want to fight and he would fight with deadly seriousness exactly as some people eat or read or go to church. Each time he fought he fought to kill and the other bulls were not afraid of him because they came of6） good blood and were not afraid. But they had no wish to provoke7） him. Nor did they wish to fight him.

He was not a bully8） nor was he wicked， but he liked to fight as men might like to sing or to be the King or the President. He never thought at all. Fighting was his obligation and his duty and his joy.

He fought on the stony， high ground. He fought under the cork-oak9） trees and he fought in the good pasture by the river. He walked fifteen miles each day from the river to the high， stony ground and he would fight any bull that looked at him. Still he was never angry.

That is not really true， for he was angry inside himself. But he did not know why， because he could not think. He was very noble and he loved to fight.

So what happened to him？ The man who owned him， if anyone can own such an animal， knew what a great bull he was and still he was worried because this bull cost him so much money by fighting with other bulls. Each bull was worth over one thousand dollars and after they had fought the great bull they were worth less than two hundred dollars and sometimes less than that.

So the man， who was a good man， decided that he would keep the blood of this bull in all of his stock10） rather than send him to the ring11） to be killed. So he selected him for breeding.

But this bull was a strange bull. When they first turned him into the pasture with the breeding cows， he saw one who was young and beautiful and slimmer and better muscled and shinier and more lovely than all the others. So， since he could not fight， he fell in love with her and he paid no attention to any of the others. He only wanted to be with her， and the others meant nothing to him at all.

The man who owned the bull ranch12） hoped that the bull would change， or learn， or be different than he was. But the bull was the same and he loved whom he loved and no one else. He only wanted to be with her， and the others meant nothing to him at all.

So the man sent him away with five other bulls to be killed in the ring， and at least the bull could fight， even though he was faithful. He fought wonderfully and everyone admired him and the man who killed him admired him the most. But the fighting jacket of the man who killed him and who is called the matador13） was wet through by the end， and his mouth was very dry.

"Que toro más bravo，" the matador said as he handed his sword to his sword handler14）. He handed it with the hilt15） up and the blade dripping with the blood from the heart of the brave bull who no longer had any problems of any kind and was being dragged out of the ring by four horses.

"Yes. He was the one the Marqués16） of Villamayor17） had to get rid of because he was faithful，" the sword handler， who knew everything， said.

"Perhaps we should all be faithful，" the matador said.

从前有一头公牛，他不叫费迪南德，也一点儿都不喜欢花。他好战爱斗，他和其他所有的公牛斗，同龄不同龄的他都斗，是个常胜将军。

他的犄角像木头一样结实，像豪猪的刺一样尖锐无比。在打斗时，犄角根部顶得他生疼，他却毫不在乎。他脖子上的肌肉隆起成一大块，在西班牙语中这叫morillo，当他准备战斗时，这团肌肉就会高耸如山。他总是一副准备好要战斗的样子，他的毛皮乌黑油亮，眼睛清澈通透。

无论是什么事儿挑起了他的战斗欲望，他都会一本正经地去斗，那股子较真劲儿就跟有些人吃饭、读书或做礼拜一模一样。每次打斗他都要置对手于死地，不过其他公牛并不怕他，因为他们都是血统高贵的公牛，所以不害怕。但他们决不想招惹他，也不想跟他斗。

他不会恃强凌弱，也没有坏心眼，但他就是喜欢斗，就像男人可能喜欢唱歌或是喜欢当国王或总统一样。他从不思考。斗是他的责任，是他的本分，也是他的快乐。

他在山石嶙峋的高地上斗，在软木橡树下斗，在河边美丽的牧场上斗。他每天走15英里，从河边一直走到山石嶙峋的高地上，只要有哪头公牛看他一眼，他就要和人家干上一架。但他从不动怒。

这么说其实也不对，因为他内心深处有一团怒火。但他不知道为什么会这样，因为他不会思考。他是一头品格高尚的牛，他就爱斗。

那么他的命运如何呢？这头牛的主人（假如这样的牛也能有主人的话）知道他是一头了不起的牛，但主人依然很担心，因为这头牛成天找别的公牛斗，害他破费不少。每头公牛价值1000多美元，跟这头了不起的牛斗过之后，就只值不到200美元，有时甚至更少。

于是他的主人——这个好心人——决定不把他送去斗牛场任人残杀，而要把他的血统留下来，留在他的牛群里。所以他选了这头公牛来配种。

但这是头不寻常的公牛。当他们第一次把他送到牧场，送到那些等待配种的母牛身边时，他一眼就看中了一头年轻、漂亮的母牛。这头母牛比其他所有的母牛更苗条，肌肉更发达，毛皮更有光泽，看上去也更可爱。既然他不能斗了，于是他就爱上了她，对其他所有母牛都不理不睬。他只想和她在一起，其他母牛在他眼里根本什么都不是。

这位养牛的牧场主本来指望这头公牛会有所改变，会开窍，或者不会像现在这样。但这头公牛始终如一，他一心一意地爱着他的爱人，眼里容不下其他母牛。他只想和她在一起，其他母牛在他眼里根本什么都不是。

于是他的主人把他和其他五头公牛一起送进了斗牛场，去接受死亡的命运。尽管这头公牛对他的爱人忠贞不二，但至少他可以酣畅淋漓地斗一场。他在这场对决中表现得非常出色，人人都对他赞誉有加，而最钦佩他的还是杀死他的那个人。但这个最终杀死他、被称为“斗牛士”的人到对决结束时，身上的那件战衣全都湿透了，嘴也干得厉害。

“这头公牛真是勇敢极了。”斗牛士把剑交给他的助手时说。他递剑时剑柄朝上，从那头勇敢的公牛心脏里流出的血顺着剑刃往下滴。这头公牛如今什么烦恼都没有了，这会儿正被四匹马拖出斗牛场。

“没错。他就是比利亚迈奥尔侯爵的那头牛，因为他太忠贞不渝了，所以侯爵不得不把他处理掉。” 那个助手说，他可是个无所不知的包打听。

“或许我们都应该忠贞不渝。”斗牛士说。