pearl into the wine-cup in which he drinks his queen's
health--

"Here fifteen hundred pounds at one clap goes.
Instead of sugar, Gresham drinks the pearl
Unto his queen and mistress. Pledge it, lords!"

The new Exchange, like the nave of St. Paul's, soon became a resort for
idlers. In the Inquest Book of Cornhill Ward, 1574 (says Mr. Burgon),
there is a presentment against the Exchange, because on Sundays and
holidays great numbers of boys, children, and "young rogues," meet
there, and shout and holloa, so that honest citizens cannot quietly walk
there for their recreation, and the parishioners of St. Bartholomew
could not hear the sermon. In 1590 we find certain women prosecuted for
selling apples and oranges at the Exchange gate in Cornhill, and
"amusing themselves in cursing and swearing, to the great annoyance and
grief of the inhabitants and passers-by." In 1592 a tavern-keeper, who
had vaults under the Exchange, was fined for allowing tippling, and for
broiling herrings, sprats, and bacon, to the vexation of worshipful
merchants resorting to the Exchange. In 1602 we find that oranges and
lemons were allowed to be sold at the gates and passages of the
Exchange. In 1622 complaint was made of the rat-catchers, and sellers of
dogs, birds, plants, &c., who hung about the south gate of the Bourse,
especially at exchange time. It was also seriously complained of that
the bear-wards, Shakespeare's noisy neighbours in Southwark, before
special bull or bear baitings, used to parade before the Exchange,
generally in business hours, and there make proclamation of their
entertainments, which caused tumult, and drew together mobs. It was
usual on these occasions to have a monkey riding on the bear's back, and
several discordant minstrels fiddling, to give additional publicity to
the coming festival.

[Illustration: PLAN OF THE EXCHANGE IN 1837.]

No person frequenting the Bourse was allowed to wear any weapon, and in
1579 it was ordered that no one should walk in the Exchange after ten
p.m. in summer, and nine p.m. in winter. Bishop Hall, in his Satires
(1598), sketching the idlers of his day, describes "Tattelius, the
new-come traveller, with his disguised coat and new-ringed ear
[Shakespeare wore earrings], tramping the Bourse's marble twice a day."

And Hayman, in his "Quodlibet" (1628), has the following epigram on a
"loafer" of the day, whom he dubs "Sir Pierce Penniless," from Naish's
clever pamphlet,