THE WRATH OF THE BEE 



does she flee. It looks as though, accepting the devastation, 

 already, in her instinct, she saw the future dwelling which she 

 hopes to build with the materials taken from the gutted town. 

 She leaves the present defenceless in order to save the here- 

 after. Or else, perhaps, does she, like the dog in the fable, "the 

 dog that carried its master's dinner round its neck," knowing 

 that all is irreparably lost, prefer to die taking her share of 

 the pillage and to pass from life to death in one prodigious 

 orgy? We do not know for certain. How should we pene- 

 trate the motives of the bee, when those of the simplest actions 

 of our brothers are beyond our ken? 



Still, the fact is that, at each great proof to which the 

 city is put, at each trouble that appears to the bees to possess 

 an inevitable character, no sooner has the infatuation spread 

 from one to the other among the dense and quivering crowd 

 than the bees fling themselves upon the combs, violently tear 

 the sacred lids from the winter provisions, topple head fore- 

 most and plunge their whole bodies into the sweet-smelling 

 vats, imbibe with long draughts the chaste wine of the flowers, 

 gorge themselves with it, intoxicate themselves with it, till 



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