The Spider should have eight legs, made of thick wire, bent and covered with black. Two curving from his feet, two from his hands, two from his head (fastened on to a round frame), two from his shoulders.
Spider. Ha, none of those horrid two-legged creatures about, I am glad to say. I should be ashamed to have so few legs. Now, let me see. Where shall I start my spinning? [Sits on tuffet and looks round.] That bough, I think, would be best ... it's just the right kind of day—not too shiny, nor too damp. Just the sort of day for a fly not to see a web. [Looks round.] Perhaps I'd better look round and see if there's a better place. Dear me, now there's a bluebottle gone swaggering past. If I'd had the web ready he'd have blundered straight into it. Fat blue thing! These winged creatures are so stupid sometimes. Well, I mustn't lose any more time.
[Enter Nurse, pushing pram in which the baby is supposed to be; Muffet following, carrying a bowl very carefully and a spoon.
Nurse. Now, Miss Muffet, you had better sit down and eat your curds and whey or you'll be splashing it down your frock. Suppose you sit on that tuffet and eat it while I walk the baby about.
Muffet. Is that called a tuffet? What a nice name!
Nurse. Yes, it's called a tuffet because that's where people sit to eat curds and whey.
Muffet. Oh, I'll sit there then. [Establishes herself carefully.] Now I'll pretend I'm on a desert island, Nurse, and you go away.
Nurse [smiling]. Very well. I leave you to the savages. Good-bye.
Muffet [calls after her]. Nurse!