Let a man employ himself, forsooth, in the enquiry whether
there has been only one Hercules, how many fathers Liber
there have been, and all the other questions which are buried
deep in the mould of antiquity! Here behold a tiny object,
one to be met with at most of our country retreats, and numbers of which are always at hand, and yet, after all, it is not
agreed among authors whether or not the king[1] is the only one
among them that is provided with no sting, and is possessed
of no other arms than those afforded him by his majestic office,
or whether Nature has granted him a sting, and has only denied
him the power of making use of it; it being a well-known
fact, that the ruling bee never does use a sting. The obedience which his subjects manifest in his presence is quite surprising. When he goes forth, the whole swarm attends him,
throngs about him, surrounds him, protects him, and will not
allow him to be seen. At other times, when the swarm is at
work within, the king is seen to visit the works, and appears
to be giving his encouragement, being himself the only one
that is exempt from work: around him are certain other bees
which act as body-guards and lictors, the careful guardians of
his authority. The king never quits the hive except when the
swarm is about to depart; a thing which may be known a long
time beforehand, as for some days a peculiar buzzing noise
is to be heard within, which denotes that the bees are waiting
for a favourable day, and making all due preparations for their
departure. On such an occasion, if care is taken to deprive the
king of one of his wings, the swarm will not fly away. When
they are on the wing, every one is anxious to be near him, and
takes a pleasure in being seen in the performance of its duty.
When he is weary, they support him on their shoulders; and
1.