English, and hated England, and all connected
therewith, had yet much to say in thy praise, when thou wast far inferior
to what thou art now, why should true-born Englishmen, or those who call
themselves so, turn up their noses at thee, and scoff thee at the present
day, as I believe they do? But, let others do as they will, I, at least,
who am not only an Englishman, but an East Englishman, will not turn up
my nose at thee, but will praise and extol thee, calling thee mart of the
world--a place of wonder and astonishment!--and, were it right and
fitting to wish that anything should endure for ever, I would say
prosperity to Cheapside, throughout all ages--may it be the world's
resort for merchandise, world without end.'

And when I had passed through the Cheape I entered another street, which
led up a kind of ascent, and which proved to be the street of the
Lombards, called so from the name of its first founders; and I walked
rapidly up the street of the Lombards, neither looking to the right nor
left, for it had no interest for me, though I had a kind of consciousness
that mighty things were being transacted behind its walls: but it wanted
the throng, bustle, and outward magnificence of the Cheape, and it had
never been spoken of by 'ruddy bards'! And, when I had got to the end of
the street of the Lombards, I stood still for some time, deliberating
within myself whether I should turn to the right or the left, or go
straight forward, and at last I turned to the right, down a street of
rapid descent, and presently found myself upon a bridge which traversed
the river which runs by the big city.

A strange kind of bridge it was; huge and massive, and seemingly of great
antiquity. It had an arched back, like that of a hog, a high balustrade,
and at either side, at intervals, were stone bowers bulking over the
river, but open on the other side, and furnished with a semicircular
bench. Though the bridge was wide--very wide--it was all too narrow for
the concourse upon it. Thousands of human beings were pouring over the
bridge. But what chiefly struck my attention was a double row of carts
and wagons, the generality drawn by horses as large as elephants, each
row striving hard in a different direction, and not unfrequently brought
to a standstill. Oh the cracking of whips, the shouts and oaths of the
carters, and the grating of wheels upon the enormous stones that formed
the pavement! In fact, there was a wild hurly-