In "The Broken Heart," Tainted Love, Onstage at the Duke "Our court wears gravity more than we relish," says the Spartan King Amyclas, hoping for some festive wedding celebrations to raise the collective spirits, in "The Broken Heart," a 17th-century drama by John Ford being presented at the Duke on 42nd Street by Theater for a New Audience. Boy, do we know what he means! Selina Cartmell's stately staging of this rarely seen play is gloom-shrouded from the get-go. Ominous figures in black hoods skulk around the dimly lighted stage. Practically all the characters are tetchy, chilly or pouty, as if suffering from a collective toothache. It is not surprising that the blood flowing from their veins is not the gaudy lipstick red you usually see onstage, but ink black. That's an inspired touch, actually, but there's little else to give variation to the somber tone of woe foretold in this well-acted but ultimately monotonous production. Ford, who wrote most of his plays during the reign of Charles I, is best known - in fact, virtually only known - for the more lurid and lusty " "Tis Pity She's a Whore" (which, coincidentally, will be seen at the Brooklyn Academy of Music this spring, in a production directed by Declan Donnellan). The drama is set in motion by a betrayal rankling the heart of Orgilus (Jacob Fishel), a Spartan youth whose betrothed, Penthea (Annika Boras), has summarily been snatched from his open arms through the workings of her ambitious twin brother, Ithocles (Saxon Palmer). Before his death, Penthea's father had promised her to Orgilus, but Ithocles forced Penthea to marry the wealthy, older and intensely jealous Bassanes (Andrew Weems). Ithocles, returning from war as a victorious leader, now feels remorse about this decision, his own heart heaving with love for the king's daughter, Calantha (Bianca Amato), who, unhappily for him, is promised to the Prince of Argos (Justin Blanchard). Meanwhile, Ithocles's great friend Prophilus (Ian Holcomb) cherishes a passion for Orgilus's sister Euphrania (Margaret Loesser Robinson), but must obtain her brother's permission to gain her hand - a tricky proposition, given Orgilus's undying enmity for Ithocles. Since we are in the realm of tragedy, it is not particularly surprising that these romances do not all end well. But it would be nice at least to imagine that they might, a possibility mostly foreclosed by the general air of foreboding that suffuses Ms. Cartmell's production, performed on a handsome set designed by Antje Ellermann, with smoky, shadow-strewn lighting design by Marcus Doshi. Even the play's few glimmers of humor have been snuffed out. In the role of Grausis, whom Bassanes has hired to mind Penthea and keep cuckoldry at bay, Olwen Fouéré appears to have been forbidden to play up the character's sly, earthy humor. Bassanes's bilious browbeating of Grausis occasionally earns a chuckle, as do the subversive asides of John Keating as another of Bassanes's servants. But detours into humor, or even a full-blooded humanity, are few on the road to thwarted love and violent retribution in Ms. Cartmell's vision. That vision, it must be said, matches the generally studied and formal tone of Ford's language. Setting aside the fuming obsessions of Bassanes, most of the characters in "The Broken Heart" mask their passions in language that lacks the exuberant vigor and variety of Shakespeare's. The tone of high moral seriousness is set by Tecnicus (an aptly august-sounding Tom Nelis), a philosopher and friend to Orgilus who lectures him on the subject of honor, to little avail. Still, the performances are mostly effective. Mr. Fishel handles Ford's language with care and infuses Orgilus with a quiet, seething intensity that makes you believe in his implacable need either to regain his love or make his foe suffer the consequences. Ms. Boras, as the sufferer in chief among the play's many brokenhearted characters, digs into her mad scene with relish, but since she portrays Penthea's graven misery and righteousness with such steely rigor, you don't feel much in the way of pity when her mind gives way. And the scene's length made me admire Shakespeare's economy in dealing with unhinged women: the mad scenes of Ophelia and Lady Macbeth don't rival those of bel canto opera in length, as Penthea's does. Ms. Amato exudes imperial grandeur as Calantha, which comes in handy in the peculiar scene in which she is brought news of various deaths and yet keeps dancing at a steady pace. Ms. Robinson brings a spark of innocence and welcome warmth to the small role of Euphrania. Mr. Palmer cannot make much of the fairly colorless Ithocles, whose passion is most aroused in a scene with his sister that faintly echoes the more scandalous incestuous romance in " "Tis Pity." By the conclusion of "The Broken Heart," several of the principal characters have met dire ends, in at least one case literally from the titular calamity. But the dashed romantic hopes and bloodletting don't inspire any great measure of feeling. Ford's epilogue, delivered in elegant diction by Ms. Fouéré, cites various possible reactions to the play, ranging from "This was flat" to " "Twas pretty." The one I most identified with was the reference to those in the audience who may merely "shrug in silence." The Broken Heart By John Ford; directed by Selina Cartmell; sets by Antje Ellermann; costumes by Susan Hilferty; lighting by Marcus Doshi; music and sound by David Van Tieghem; choreography by Annie-B Parson; voice director, Andrew Wade; dramaturgy by Jonathan Kalb; fight director, J. Allen Suddeth; production stage manager, Linda Marvel; production manager, B. D. White; general manager, Theresa Von Klug. Presented by Theater for a New Audience, Jeffrey Horowitz, artistic director; Theodore C. Rogers, chairman; Dorothy Ryan, managing director. At the Duke on 42nd Street, 229 West 42nd Street, Manhattan; (646) 223-3010, new42.org. Through March 4. Running time: 2 hours 45 minutes. WITH: Bianca Amato (Calantha), Justin Blanchard (Nearchus), Annika Boras (Penthea), Jacob Fishel (Orgilus), Olwen Fouéré (Grausis), Philip Goodwin (Amyclas), Ian Holcomb (Prophilus), John Keating (Armostes/Phulas), Robert Langdon Lloyd (Crotolon), Tom Nelis (Tecnicus), Margaret Loesser Robinson (Euphrania/Philema), Saxon Palmer (Ithocles) and Andrew Weems (Bassanes).