The first, of gold, which this inscription bears; Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. It was the singular whim of an Italian nobleman, residing in his castle of Belmont, to devise a new mode of wooing. He was wealthy, and had one daughter, a lady of exquisite beauty, an only child, who was heiress to all his riches. Being well aware that her fortune would expose her to a variety of suitors, and that she would probably be deceived, and imposed upon-he resolved to guard her if possible from that danger, though he left her liable to a much greater; as, according to his mode, she might be chosen by one she did not love, and her future life thus be rendered wretched, by an ill sorted union. It was, when on his death bed, the idea struck him that he would at least make an effort to save his beloved child from becoming the prey of avarice: he therefore drew up a testament, the purport of which was, that his daughter must never marry unless she consented to be won after the manner of his will; wherein he ordered three caskets, one of gold, one of silver, and one of lead, to be secretly prepared; and upon the choice of these, she was to be either won or lost. But in order to prevent too many bold adventurers from intruding, each suitor was to be enjoined by oath to the observance of three things: first, never to unfold to any one which casket he chose, next if he chose wrong, never to marry, and lastly to depart immediately on the failure of his venture. The lady Portia's beauty and attractions, and her excessive wealth, rendered her an object of great notoriety. Her fame spread abroad, and the fair heiress of Belmont was the theme of numerous tongues. Notwithstanding the penalty of eternal celibacy-she was assailed by suitors in abundance, who ventured the hazard. The first was the Prince of Morocco; he deliberated over and over again, read, and re-read the inscriptions; the superb gold casket, inlaid with gems-attracted his attention, and he translated the motto to his own fancy. Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint. One of these three contains her heavenly picturė. Or shall I think in silver she's immersed, **• He demanded the key, and eagerly opening the casket, found a frightful death's head, with a scroll issuing from the vacant eye- -containing these words: The Prince, deeply mortified, took his leave-lamenting his disappointment, in the loss of so fair a bride, and the unfortunate sacrifice he had made, in condemning himself to perpetual celibacy. The second suitor was the prince of Arragon, a proud imperious man, who imagined the world made for him alone. Portia's beauty, or her virtue, was no attraction to him; he but desired her wealth, and the honour of having won a prize which so many were resolved to contend for. The penalty hazarded was not any extraordinary mortification to him, as he felt no great disposition to part with his freedom -or stoop to the servile task of wooing in the ordinary way. On examining the caskets, he disdained to touch the leaden one, and the gold he affected to despise, as gold he said attracted "the fool multitude." He therefore would not choose "what many mcn desire," because he would not jump with common spirits, or rank him with the barbarous hoard of "multituules." He would asame desert," which the motto on the silver casket implied: Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves. That was doubtless the lady; and his vanity whispered that he did deserve her. He then pompously demanded the key, and in full confidence opened the casket :-but his mortification was extreme, when the head of a blinking ideot sprung up, presenting him with a schedule he started back, and indignantly exclaimed Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves Did I deserve no more than a fool's head? (then snatching the paper, he read-) The fire seven times tried this; He walked up and down the room much agitated and presently took his departure, saying angrily, as he looked at the grinning head, which seemed to mock his vexation Still more fool I shall appear, By the time I linger here; With one fool's head I came to woo, Belmont castle was now generally thronged with visitors. The grave and the gay-the wise and the foolish-came, and formed at times such a motley group, that they excited the wit and mirth of Portia, who, in secret, passed her judgment on them to her favourite companion and attendant Nerissa A |