The Ladies are cured of the Spleen, but I am not a Shilling the better for it.' [Footnote 134: _Spectator_, No. 337.] [Illustration: A Lady and Footman.] One famous place for shopping was the New Exchange, in the Strand, which must have been something like our arcades; and many are the allusions, in contemporary literature, to the dangerous allurements of the Exchange shop-girls. 'Did you buy anything? Some Bawbles. But my choice was so distracted among the Pretty Merchants and their Dealers, I knew not where to run first. One little lisping Rogue, Ribbandths, Gloveths, Tippeths. Sir, cries another, will you buy a fine Sword Knot; then a third, pretty voice and Curtsie, Does not your Lady want Hoods, Scarfs, fine green silk Stockings. I went by as if I had been in a Seraglio, a living Gallery of Beauties--staring from side to side, I bowing, they laughing; so made my escape.'[135] [Footnote 135: _The Lying Lover._] This was the universal description of the New Exchange, and the character of their wares has been immortalised in a song by Ward:-- Fine Lace or Linnen, Sir, Good Gloves or Ribbons here; What is't you please to Buy, Sir? Pray what d'ye ask for this? Ten Shillings is the Price; It cost me, sir, no less, I Scorn to tell a Lye, Sir. Madam, what is't you want, Rich Fans of India paint? Fine Hoods or Scarfs, my Lady? Silk Stockings will you buy, In Grain or other Dye? Pray, Madam, please your Eye; I've good as e'er was made ye. My Lady, feel the Weight, They're Fine, and yet not Slight; I'd with my Mother trust 'em. For Goodness and for Wear, Madam, I Vow and Swear, I show'd you this same Pair In hopes to gain your Custom. Pray tell me in a Word, At what you can afford, With Living Gain to sell 'em: The price is one Pound five, And as I hope to Live, I do my Profit give, Your Honour's very welcome. Knives, Penknives, Combs or Scissors, Tooth Pickers, Sirs, or Tweesers; Or Walking Canes to Ease ye. Ladies, d'ye want fine Toys, For Misses or for Boys? Of all sorts I have Choice, And pretty things to please ye. I want a little Babye, As pretty a one as may be, With Head dress made of Feather: And now I think again, I want a Toy from Spain, You know what 'tis I mean: Pray send 'em home together.