“ The queen raised her hand, and though it trembled like an aspen, she placed it in his."It is thy queen who is the slave," she murmured in a broken voice, as Bothwell raised the beautiful hand to his lips, and covered it with rapturous kisses.As he relinquished her hand, it came in contact with that of the child. As if an adder had stung her, she drew it back, and then with a sudden gush of feeling snatched the boy to her bosom and covered it with tears and kisses. Bothwell dreaded the influence of the pure maternal feeling thus expressed. ”
Summary
The Portland Sketch Book, an anonymous 19th-century literary work, intertwines themes of harmony, melody, and eloquence with vivid natural imagery and emotional depth. Featuring characters such as Bothwell, the queen, and Nunu, it delves into human emotion through scenes of royal devotion, philosophical contemplation, and the interaction between art and nature.
The text combines poetic reflections on the universe with dramatic storytelling, frequently highlighting the transformative influence of beauty and maternal affection. Its structure, echoing that of contemporary periodicals, indicates an emphasis on lyrical narration and intellectual exchange, merging the sublime with the personal.
Quotes from The Portland Sketch Book ()
“ Here are "sweet, strange flowers," to glad thy heart with their innocent beauty, and delight thee with their fragrance; here is the broad and blessed "sky bending over" thee, and the quiet lake at thy feet. "The air is spread with beauty; and the sky Is musical with sounds that rise and die, Till scarce the ear can catch them; then they swell, Then send from far a low, sweet, sad farewell."And who art thou that bringest discord and rough, angry passions into a scene like this? Ah, thou bringest not discord, it has stolen from thy heart; thou art at peace. ”
“ The annals of mankind present nothing that resembles it. A splendid or an affecting story may be degraded or belittled by being told in an unworthy style. But the style of Livy never falls below the dignity of his subject. His eloquence is as magnificent as the fortunes of the eternal city. In splendor of language, in glowing and picturesque description, in warmth and brilliancy and boldness of coloring, and in the dignified and majestic movement of his whole narrative, there is nothing in the literature of any country which will bear a comparison with the Decads of Livy. ”
