We left the precinct by the North gate, which opens upon the back of St. Michael le Querne, and turned eastward into Chepe. The breadth of this great market had contracted since the reign of Edward the Third. The houses on the south side were much higher and better built, with timber frames and much carving and gilding. On the north side the lanes, which were formerly broad spaces for stands and sheds for the market, were now narrow, with houses on either hand: there were also houses on that side, but not continuous; here were Grocers’ Hall and Mercers’ Hall. Round the Standard and the Cross were stalls kept by women; the poulterers still had their shops in the Poultry, and apothecaries sold their drugs and herbs in Bucklersbury. It was now evening, and supper time. My guide led me to the tavern called the Rose, in the Poultry. There was a goodly company assembled in the great room. Here there was music, and the drawers ran about with supper and with wine. A capon with a flask of Malmsey warmed the heart of my old guide. After supper we took tobacco and more wine, while boys sang madrigals very sweetly. The close of a summer day in the City of London brings with it a cessation of the noise of hammers and the ringing of anvils and the grinding of waggons and the shouts of those who quarrel over their work. The City became quiet; there was the tinkling of guitar and lute from the taverns and the houses; the voices of those who sang; the merry laugh of maidens, and the sober voice of age. “Come,” said Stow, “there remains the Royal Exchange. This we will see and so an end until to-morrow.” The Royal Exchange was lit up with candles. The upper walk or _pawne_[4] I found to be a collection of shops, all as light as day. Music was playing and the place was full of people; not the sober merchants, but the City madams and their daughters, the gallants, and the ’prentices. “In the summer,” said Stow, “the place is open till nine of the clock, in the winter till ten. Many come here just as they go to Paul’s in the morning, because they have no other place to go to and no money to spend in the tavern. Know you not the lines? ‘Though little coin thy purseless pockets line, Yet with great company thou’st taken up; For often with Duke Humphrey thou dost dine; And often with Sir Thomas Gresham sup.’”