PRINCE FLORIAN MR. W. H. KENDAL. MOUSTA (_a deformed Dwarf_) MR. ANSON. THE LADY HILDA MISS M. ROBERTSON. (MRS. KENDAL.) THE LADY VAVIR (_her Sister_) MISS HOLLINGSHEAD. THE LADY MELUSINE MISS PLOWDEN. THE LADY AMANTHIS MISS RORKE. SCENE: THE ISLAND OF BROKEN HEARTS. _The action of the piece takes place within twenty four hours._ Costumes--1300-1350. BROKEN HEARTS. ACT I. SCENE: _A tropical landscape. In the distance, a calm sea. A natural fountain--a mere thread of water--falls over a rock into a natural basin. An old sun-dial formed of the upper part of a broken pillar, round the shaft of which some creeping flowers are trained, stands on a small mound. The time is within half an hour of sunset._ _MOUSTA, a deformed, ill-favoured dwarf hump-backed and one-eyed, is discovered seated, reading a small black-letter volume._ _Mous._ (_reads_). “_To move a mountain._” That will serve me not, Unless, indeed, ’twill teach me how to lift This cursed mountain from my crippled back! “_To make old young._” Humph! I’m but forty-two-- But still, I’ll mark that page--the day will come When I shall find it useful. Ha! what’s this? “_To make the crooked straight; to heal the halt; And clothe unsightly forms with comeliness._” At last! At last! _Enter VAVIR, who listens in amazement._ (_Reads_) “_Take scammony and rue, With henbane gathered in a fat churchyard-- Pound in a mortar with three drops of blood, Drawn from a serpent’s tail at dead of night._” Yes, yes, that’s plain enough! (_reads_) “_Take pigeon’s egg Wrapped in the skin of a beheaded toad, And then_--” (_sees VAVIR_) Who’s there? _Vav._ (_astonished_). Why, Mousta? _Mous._ Pardon me, I’m at my book. I did not hear thy step. _Vav._ Thy book hath lines both strange and terrible: Why Mousta, this is arrant sorcery! How camest thou with such a fearful thing? _Mous._ (_whispering_). An unseen spirit brought it to me--Ay, Brought it to _me_. An hour or so ago I saw a distant boat make for our shores, The wind was on her bow--she tacked as though Handled by one well-skilled in such small craft. Well--on she came--and I awaited her, Armed with a boat-hook. When within fair hail, “Sheer off!” I cried; “No stranger touches here!” But, heedless of my hail, she kept her course, And, when within a bow-shot of the beach, Down came her sail, and in she ran to shore! _Vav._ (_alarmed_). Whom did she carry, Mousta? _Mous._ Not a soul! The boat was tenantless! Some unseen power Had guided her! I overhauled the craft To find some sign of human agency, And found--this book.