AN 
 
 ORIGINAL ROMANCE, 
 FOUNDED ON THE FRENCH STORY: 
 
 AS NOW PERFORMING, 
 WITH UNBOUNDED APPLAUSE, 
 
 AT ALL THE LONDON THEATRES 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH 
 
 jFonr Copperplate ingrafting**, 
 
 Beautifully Coloured. 
 
 Jponxti) action. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR HODGSON, 43, KING-STREET, 
 
 SNOW-HILL. 
 [ PRICE SIXPENCE, ] 
 
TMEKESE, 
 
 THE ORPHAN OF C EX EVA. 
 
 The cloud-topt glaciers of Switzerland reflected wide 
 the rays of the sun, now rising majestic from the ( ast- 
 ern ocean. Already the youthful villagers of Senange 
 (were busily employed ; some, culling the fairest flowers 
 in their little gardens ; some, gathering hawthorn blos- 
 soms, evergreens, and honeysuckles from the hedges : 
 some, traversing the fields and meadows, in quest of hut- 
 jtercups and daisies, to interweave crowns, wreaths, and 
 garlands: the whole village wore one unclouded face 
 of joy, as if on the eve of some great festival, some 
 day peculiarly set apart for general happiness. 
 
 At this how, a man of sullen brow, and gloomy 
 visage, but of a more sullen and gloomy mind, was pass- 
 ing on his dark errand through the happy crowds. 
 Though his callous heart was as far from participating 
 rati the scene before him as Satan's, on beholding the 
 innocence and pleasure our primitive parents enjoyed 
 in Paradise, curiosity, malignant curiosity, impelled him 
 to inquire, and ascertain, that these festivities were de- 
 signed to celebrate the nuptials of Madame de Senange's 
 only son ; that he was to be united to an orphan his mo- 
 ther had lately taken under her protection, without for- 
 tune, friends, and family— a perfect stranger ; but, for 
 beauty, goodness, and gentleness of heart, and every 
 other virtue and accomplishment, worthy of the lot that 
 awaited her. 
 
 His eagerness for information increased at every par- 
 ticular mentioned. Inquiry followed inquiry ; and even- 
 answer rendered the subject more and more interesting : . 
 At last he resolves to seek the Castle de Senange imme- 
 diately, it being no more than a league from the village. 
 This space of ground he hurried over with that haste 
 which ever distinguishes the evil-doer, when determined 
 on committing some deed of darkness. « Eight months 
 since, an orphan had escaped from his fangs ; he had her 
 completely in his toils; in age and beauty such as he had 
 heard so described, so praised— fortunate circumstance, 
 were she the same : he must be convinced." Thus rea- 
 soning, he passed through the wood that skirted Senange 
 with the speed of a demon, intent on the ruin of some 
 wretched victim he had doomed to destruction, crossed 
 the bridge leading to Madame de Senange's castle, ard