Answer:
You use a knife to slice my head but you weep beside me when I am dead
I am round. I have only one line. Circle is not my name indeed. What am I?
In all the world, none can compare, I am a tiny weaver; my deadly cloth so silky and fair. What am I?
Without a bridle, or a saddle, across a thing I ride a-straddle. And those I ride, by help of me, though almost blind, are made to see. What am I?
I am heavy forward, but backward I'm not. What am I?
Why was the cook arrested?