Spider To a Fly

Said a spider to a fly: “Don’t expect an apology for what I am about to do. If anyone’s at fault, it’s you.” “But,” said the pleading fly, I’m not to blame at all; you hung your web where I could not see it’s sprawl!” “Look here,” the spider said, “whenever I spin my web, it’s by instinct not design; so note: what I do I do by rote. “Besides,” the spider said, “flies are said to have compound eyes, so how do you avoid a crash into a web? Tell me that, I ask. “Was your mind in focus or did you fail to notice? You’re answer will of course instill no pity or remorse. “Now, all this talk has given me an appetite quite distinct, and which, incidentally, is also driven by instinct.”