A little head and body small,
With slender feet and very tall,
Belly great, and from thence come all
The webs it spins.—
Moufet.[1125]
“Domitian sometime,” says Hollingshed incidentally in his Chronicles of England, “and an other prince yet living, delited so much to see the iollie combats betwixt a stout Flie and an old Spider.… Some parasites also in the time of the aforesaid emperour (when they were disposed to laugh at his follie, and yet would seem in appearance to gratifie his fantasticall head with some shew of dutiful demenour) could devise to set their lorde on worke, by letting a fresh flie privilie into his chamber, which he foorthwith would egerlie have hunted (all other businesse set apart) and never ceased till he had caught him in his fingers: whereupon arose the proverbe ‘ne musca quidem,’ altered first by Vitius Priscus, who being asked whether anie bodie was with Domitian, answered ‘ne musca quidem,’ whereby he noted his follie. There are some cockes combs here and there in England, learning it abroad as men transregionate, which make account also of this pastime, as of a notable matter, telling what a fight is seene betweene them, if either of them be lustie and couragious in his kind. One also hath mad a booke of the Spider and the Flie, wherein he dealeth so profoundlie, and beyond all measure of skill, that neither he himself that made it, neither anie one that readeth it can reach unto the meaning thereof.”[1126]
Chapelain, the author of Pucelle, was called by the academicians the Knight of the Order of the Spider, because he was so avaricious, that though he had an income of 13,000 livres, and more than 240,000 in ready money, he wore an old coat so patched, pieced, and threadbare, that the stitches exhibited no bad resemblance to the fibers produced by that insect. Being one day present at a large party given by the great Condé, a Spider of uncommon size fell from the ceiling upon the floor. The company thought it could not
have come from the roof, and all the ladies at once agreed that it must have proceeded from Chapelain’s wig;—the wig so celebrated by the well-known parody.[1127]
The often-told anecdote of the Scottish monarch, Robert Bruce, and the cottage Spider, is thus related in Chambers’ Miscellany: While wandering on the wild hills of Carrick, in order to escape the emissaries of Edward, Robert the Bruce on one occasion passed the night under the shelter of a poor deserted cottage. Throwing himself down on a heap of straw, he lay upon his back, with his hands placed under his head, unable to sleep, but gazing vacantly upward at the rafters of the hut, disfigured with cobwebs. From thoughts long and dreary about the hopelessness of the enterprise in which he was engaged, and the misfortunes he had already encountered, he was roused to take interest in the efforts of a poor industrious Spider, which had begun to ply its vocation with the first gray light of morning. The object of the animal was to swing itself, by its thread, from one rafter to another; but in the attempt it repeatedly failed, each time vibrating back to the point whence it had made the effort. Twelve times did the little creature try to reach the desired spot, and as many times was it unsuccessful. Not disheartened with its failure, it made the attempt once more, and, lo! the rafter was gained. “The thirteenth time,” said Bruce, springing to his feet; “I accept it as a lesson not to despond under difficulties, and shall once more venture my life in the struggle for the independence of my beloved country.” The result is well known.[1128]
It is related in the life of Mohammed, that when he and Abubeker were fleeing for their lives before the Coreishites, they hid themselves for three days in a cave, over the mouth of which a Spider spread its web, and a pigeon laid two eggs there, the sight of which made the pursuers not go in to search for them.[1129]