One day I found him half drunk with honey, lying fast asleep in the heart of a lily; his face, though smeared with yellow pollen, still retained its noble expression. He was snoring in a most majestic and regular manner. I stood for a moment, quite rooted to the spot by the glorious spectacle. This then, I thought, is a future husband of our queen! I at last approached him, foolishly curious to examine the details of his figure, and gently touched him, when, yawning, he said—
“What does your Majesty want now?”
Then looking at me, he perceived his mistake, and added smiling—
“I am not in your way, my child, so proceed with your work, and permit me to rest in peace.”
There must have been a subtle odour in this flower which stole into my head, for I instantly forgot my work, and remained looking at him dreamily. What are we? I thought. Only miserable workers, makers of honey, moulders of wax, and neuter nurses to the children of those magnificent idlers who spend their days in sleeping in the heart of flowers, and dreaming that they hear the silvery tones of the queen’s voice calling them. I own myself ashamed of my humble, laborious calling. How could he love such a simple drudge? Were I even a Wasp, scouring lanes and hedgerows, and annoying wayfarers—careless, coquettish, unkind—always armed, offensive and useless; perhaps then he might love me. Is not fear the beginning of love? Hence is it not a means of seduction? Such thoughts, and a thousand others, were buzzing in my brain; still my admiration only became all the more intense, and I exclaimed, in spite of myself—
“O Prince, most handsome Prince, you are exceedingly beautiful!”
“All right,” replied the Prince, “I know it; my position requires it. Pray do not disturb my repose; go away, like a good fellow.”
This strange language to a neuter disturbed me not a little. He evidently did not even know my sex, far less my love for him. That which charmed me most was—I scarce dare write it—his glorious idleness, the helplessness of his fine body, and insolent coolness of his fine language. I scorned and yet loved him. I knew he was accustomed to snore daily when in this perfumed spot; I therefore got through with my work quickly, and made the flower my resort, after dressing the little ones confided to my care, and nearly choking them with hasty meals, so that I might go and prepare his place, and sweep away with my wings any yellow powder that would soil his coat. If a few drops of water had gathered in the corolla, I pierced it with my stings and left, so that my master might repose there without fear of rheumatism.
He was none the more thankful; his requirements only increased and kept pace with my love and care for him. He would smile, blissfully stretching himself, and request me to mount guard outside the flower, so that no common insect might trouble his dreams. It tried my temper, yet I watched. One day I saw him coming; he was very pale, but his walk was steadier than usual.
“What is the matter, Prince?” I inquired anxiously.