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Sinner.
VVhat black? what ugly crawling thing art thou?

Spider.
I am a Spider—

Sinner.
A Spider, Ay, also a filthy Creature.

Spider.
Not filthy as thy self, in Name or Feature:
My Name intailed is to my Creation;
My Feature's from the God of thy Salvation.

Sinner.
I am a Man, and in God's Image made,
I have a Soul shall neither dye nor fade:
God has possessed me with humane Reason,
Speak not against me, lest thou speakest Treason.

For if I am the Image of my Maker,
Of Slanders laid on me he is Partaker.

Spider.
I know thou art a Creature far above me,
Therefore I shun, I fear, and also love thee.
But tho thy God hath made thee such a Creature,
Thou hast against him often play'd the Traitor.
Thy sin has fetcht thee down: Leave off to boast;
Nature thou hast defil'd, God's Image lost.
Yea thou, thy self a very Beast hast made,
And art become like Grass, which soon doth fade.
Thy Soul, thy Reason, yea thy spotless State,
Sin has subjected to th'most dreadful fate.
But I retain my primitive condition,
I've all, but what I lost by thy Ambition.

Sinner.
Thou venom'd thing, I know not what to call thee,
The Dregs of Nature surely did befal thee;
Thou wast made of the Dross, and Scum of all;
Man hates thee, doth in scorn thee Spider call.

Spider.
My Venom's good for something, 'cause God made it;
Thy Sin has spoilt thy Nature, doth degrade it
Of humane Vertues; therefore tho I fear thee,
I will not, tho I might, despise and jear thee.
Thou sayst I am the very Dregs of Nature,
Thy Sin's the spawn of Devils, 'tis no Creature.
Thou sayst man hates me, 'cause I am a Spider,
Poor man, thou at thy God art a Derider:

My venom tendeth to my Preservation;
Thy pleasing Follies work out thy Damnation.
Poor man, I keep the rules of my Creation;
Thy sin has cast thee headlong from thy Station.
I hurt no body willingly; but thou
Art a self-Murderer: Thou knowst not how
To do what good is, no thou lovest evil;
Thou fly'st God's Law, adherest to the Devil.

Sinner.
Ill-shaped Creature there's Antipathy
'Twixt Men and Spiders, 'tis in vain to lie,
I hate thee, stand off, if thou dost come nigh me,
I'll crush thee with my foot; I do defie thee.

Spider.

They are ill shap't, who warped are by sin;
Antipathy in thee hath long time bin
To God. No marvel then, if me his Creature
Thou dost defie, pretending Name and Feature.
But why stand off? My Presence shall not throng thee,
'Tis not my venom, but thy sin doth wrong thee.

Come I will teach thee Wisdom, do but hear me,
I was made for thy profit, do not fear me.

But if thy God thou wilt not hearken to,
What can the Swallow, Ant, or Spider do?
Yet I will speak, I can but be rejected;
Sometimes great things, by small means are effected.

Hark then; tho man is noble by Creation,
He's lapsed now to such Degeneration;
Is so besotted, and so careless grown,
As not to grieve, though he has overthrown

Himself, and brought to Bondage every thing
Created, from the Spider to the King.

This we poor Sensitives do feel and see;
For subject to the Curse you made us be.
Tread not upon me, neither from me go;
'Tis man which has brought all the world to Wo.

The Law of my Creation bids me teach thee,
I will not for thy Pride to God impeach thee.

I spin, I weave, and all to let thee see,
Thy best performances but Cob-webs be.
Thy Glory now is brought to such an Ebb,
It doth not much excel the Spider's Web.
My Webs becoming snares and traps for Flies,
Do set the wiles of Hell before thine eyes.
Their tangling nature is to let thee see,
Thy sins (too) of a tangling nature be.
My Den, or Hole, for that 'tis bottomless,
Doth of Damnation shew the Lastingness.
My lying quat, until the Fly is catcht,
Shews, secretly Hell hath thy ruin hatcht.
In that I on her seize, when she is taken,
I shew who gathers whom God hath forsaken.
The Fly lies buzzing in my Web to tell
Thee, how the Sinners roar and howl in Hell.

Now since I shew thee all these Mysteries,
How canst thou hate me; or me Scandalize?

Sinner.
Well, well, I no more will be a Derider;
I did not look for such things from a Spider.

Spider.

Come, hold thy peace, what I have yet to say,
If heeded, help thee may another day.
Since I an ugly ven'mous Creature be,
There is some Semblance 'twixt vile Man and Me.

My wild and heedless Runnings, are like those
Whose ways to ruin do their Souls expose.
Day-light is not my time, I work 'ith' night,
To shew, they are like me who hate the Light.
The slightest Brush will overthrow my house,
To shew false Pleasures are not worse a Louse.
The Maid sweeps one Web down, I make another,
To shew how heedless ones Convictions smother
My Web is no defence at all to me,
Nor will false Hopes at Judgment be to thee.

Sinner.
O Spider I have heard thee, and do wonder,
A Spider should thus lighten, and thus thunder!

Spider.

Do but hold still, and I will let thee see,
Yet in my ways more Mysteries there be.
Shall not I do thee good, if I thee tell,
I shew to thee a four-fold way to Hell.

For since I set my Webs in sundry places,
I shew men go to Hell in divers traces.

One I set in the window, that I might
Shew, some go down to Hell with Gospel-light.

One I set in a Corner, as you see,
To shew, how some in secret snared be.

Gross Webs great store I set in darksome places,
To shew, how many sin with brazen faces.

Another Web I set aloft on high,
To shew, there's some professing men must dye.
Thus in my Ways, God Wisdom doth conceal;
And by my ways, that Wisdom doth reveal.

I hide my self, when I for Flies do wait,
So doth the Devil, when he lays his bait.
If I do fear the losing of my prey,
I stir me, and more snares upon her lay.
This way, and that, her Wings and Legs I tye,
That sure as she is catcht, so she must dye.
But if I see she's like to get away,
Then with my Venom, I her Journey stay.
All which my ways, the Devil imitates,
To catch men 'cause he their Salvation hates.

Sinner.
O Spider, thou delight'st me with thy Skill,
I prethee spit this Venom at me still.

Spider.

I am a Spider, yet I can possess
The Palace of a King, where Happiness
So much abounds. Nor when I do go thither,
Do they ask what, or whence I come, or whether
I make my hasty Travels, no not they;
They let me pass, and I go on my way.
I seize the Palace, do with hands take hold
Of Doors, of locks, or bolts; yea I am bold.

When in, to Clamber up unto the Throne,
And to possess it, as if 'twere mine own.

Nor is there any Law forbidding me
Here to abide, or in this Palace be.

Yea, if I please I do the highest Stories
Ascend, there sit, and so behold the Glories
My self is compast with, as if I were
One of the chiefest Courtiers that be there.

Here Lords and Ladies do come round about me,
With grave Demeanor: Nor do any flout me,
For this my brave Adventure, no not they;
They come, they go, but leave me there to stay.

Now, my Reproacher, I do by all this
Shew how thou may'st possess thy self of Bliss:
Thou art worse than a Spider, but take hold
On Christ the Door, thou shalt not be controul'd.
By him do thou the Heavenly Palace enter,
None chide thee will for this thy brave Adventure.

Approach thou then unto the very Throne,
There speak thy mind, fear not, the Day's thine own.
Nor Saint nor Angel will thee stop or stay;
But rather tumble blocks out of thy way.
My Venom stops not me, let not thy Vice
Stop thee; possess thy self of Paradice.

Go on, I say, although thou be a Sinner,
Learn to be bold in Faith of me a Spinner.
This is the way the Glories to possess,
And to enjoy what no man can express.

Sometimes I find the Palace door up lock't;
And so my entrance thither as up blockt.
But am I daunted? No, I here and there
Do feel, and search; so, if I any where,

At any chink or crevise find my way,
I croud, I press for passage, make no stay;
And so, tho difficulty, I attain
The Palace, yea the Throne where Princes reign.
I croud sometimes, as if I'd burst in sunder;
And art thou crush't with striving do not wonder.
Some scarce get in, and yet indeed they enter;
Knock, for they nothing have that nothing venture.

Nor will the King himself throw dirt on thee,
As thou hast cast Reproaches upon me.
He will not hate thee, O thou foul Backslider!
As thou didst me, because I am a Spider.

Now, to conclude; since I such Doctrine bring,
Slight me no more, call me not ugly thing.
God Wisdom hath unto the Piss-ant given,
And Spiders may teach men the way to Heaven.

Sinner.

Well, my good Spider, I my Errors see,
I was a fool for railing upon thee.
Thy Nature, Venom, and thy fearful Hue,
Both shew what Sinners are, and what they do.

Thy way and works do also darkly tell,
How some men go to Heaven, and some to Hell.
Thou art my Monitor, I am a Fool;
They learn may, that to Spiders go to School.