A Little Book on Colors

Is it worth the effort to know? The quarrel of the Maeonian girl has long been famous; who does not know how she was changed by the anger, or perhaps the envy, of Pallas, while the unfortunate girl sought to equate herself with the Celestials? Or perhaps, as the sister of the brother Phalanges, Arachne was caught having secretly frequented the chaste temples of the goddess. Whence even now, throughout the Apulian towns, a boy crawls here and there, having contracted into a black, many-legged form. And the old name of the dreaded Phalangia is still retained, though the ancient city of Tarentum also gave it a new one.

In the beginning, lest those ignorant of things be delayed by secrets, whatever it is through which she slips, she either spits it from her mouth, or winds it externally like a dense ball of thread. As soon as the Spider perceives the light, it emits this, and works to provide for itself, and weaves threads continuously, casting its body with a light leap. It goes and returns quickly; now it climbs upward and already holds the high point; from there, suspended, it falls down again, and now by a thousand paths, with equal precision, it has woven a circle. Then the wicked creature hides its traps under dark leaves, lest if by chance the light flock of winged ones were to see the destruction with its eyes, it might flee, its heart trembling with dread.

Thus, having finally laid the snares, it hides itself far away, and watches to see if any prey falls into the new nets. Behold, wild Gnats and Flies, and all that kind of winged thing, fly imprudently, and willingly rush into the nets, loosen the folds, and throw everything into confusion. From its high watchtower, the scout casts itself greedily, and tears at those entangled ones with its bite, and, acting as a lictor, binds them all around, and thus heaps up everything through constant hunting, and stores away its food. But lest you might think that it only catches light-winged things and the weak, dense webs hold the melancholy Gadfly, and it rages, furious at being detained, but the Hunter, running up, destroys it in the dark gullet. Why should I mention Drones, and whatever bears poison in a bitter sting? How often it buzzes when captured, and as if they themselves...