The queen bee, unlike the great majority of her subjects, is a stayer at home. On the second or third day of her princess life she usually sets out on the all-important concern of her marriage, and when once this is satisfactorily accomplished she never afterwards leaves the hive, except to lead off an emigrating swarm. Evans, with proper loyalty, has duly furnished a glowing epithalamium for the queen bee, thus:-- "But now, when noontide Sirius glares on high, With him young love ascends the glowing sky, From vein to vein swift shoots prolific fire, And thrills each insect fibril with desire. Thence, Nature, to fulfil thy prime decree, Wheels round in wanton rings the courtier bee; Now shyly distant, now with bolder air, He woos and wins the all-complying fair; Through fields of ether, veiled in vapoury gloom, They seek with amorous haste the nuptial room, As erst the immortal pair on Ida's height Wreathed round their noon of joy ambrosial night." The loyalty and attachment of bees to their queen is one of their most remarkable characteristics; they constantly supply her with food, and fawn upon and caress her, softly touching her with their antennæ--a favour which she occasionally returns. When she moves about the hive all the bees through whom she successively passes pay her the same homage; she experiences no inconvenience from overcrowding, for though the part of the hive to which she is journeying may be the most populous, way is immediately made, the common bees tumbling over each other to get out of her path, so great is their anxiety not to interfere with the royal progress. A number of them often form a circle round her, none venturing to turn their backs upon her, but all anxious to show that respect and attention due to her rank and station. The majestic deportment of the queen bee, and the homage paid to her, are, with a little poetic licence, thus described by Evans:-- "But mark, of regal port and awful mien, Where moves with measured pace the insect queen! Twelve chosen guards, with slow and solemn gait, Bend at her nod, and round her person wait. Not eastern despots, of their splendour vain, Can boast, in all their pomp, a brighter train Of fear-bound satraps; not in bonds of love Can loyal Britons more obedient move."