28 
Pliny's nattteal histoet. 
Book XI.. 
its web and tlie tenacious texture of the woof, which would 
appear of itself to be finished and arranged by the exercise of 
the very highest art ! How loose, too, is the body of the web 
as it yields to the blasts, and how readily does it catch all objects 
which come in its way ! You would fancy that it had left, 
quite exhausted, the thrums of the upper portion of its net 
unfinished where they are spread across ; it is with the great- 
est difficulty that they are to be perceived, and yet the moment 
that an object touches them, like the lines of the hunter's net, 
they throw it into the body of the web. With what archi- 
tectural skill, too, is its hole arched over, and how well de- 
fended by a nap of extra thickness against the cold ! How 
carefully, too, it retires into a corner, and appears intent upon 
anything but what it really is, all the while that it is so care- 
fully shut up from view, that it is impossible to perceive whe- 
ther there is anything within or not I And then too, how ex- 
traordinary the strength of the web ! When is the wind ever 
known to break it, or what accumulation of dust is able to 
weigh it down ? 
The spider often spreads its web right across between two 
trees, when plying its art and learning how to spin ; and then, 
as to its length, the thread extends from the very top of the 
tree to the ground, while the insect springs up again in an 
instant from the earth, and travels aloft by the very self-same 
thread, thus mounting at the same moment and spinning 
its threads. When its prey falls into its net, how on the alert 
it is, and with what readiness it runs to seize it ! Even 
though it should be adhering to the very edge of its web, the 
insect always runs instantly to the middle, as it is by these 
means that it can most effectually shake the web, and so suc- 
cessfully entangle its prey. When the web is torn, the 
spider immediately sets about repairing it, and that so neatly, 
that nothing like patching can ever be seen. The spider lies 
in wait even for the young of the lizard, and after enveloping 
the head of the animal, bites its lips ; a sight by no means 
unworthy of the amphitheatre itself, when it is one's good for- 
tune to witness it. Presages also are drawn from the spider ; 
for when a river is about to swell, it will suspend its web 
higher than usual. In calm weather these insects do not spin, 
but when it is cloudy they do, and hence it is, that a great 
number of cobwebs is a sure sign of showery weather. It is 
