Hen monologue — King Henry VI, Part 3

My Queene and Son are gone to France for aid: And (as I heare) the great Commanding Warwicke I: thither gone, to craue the French Kings Sister To wife for Edward. If this newes be true, Poore Queene, and Sonne, your labour is but lost: For Warwicke is a subtle Orator: And Lewis a Prince soone wonne with mouing words: By this account then, Margaret may winne him, For she's a woman to be pittied much: Her sighes will make a batt'ry in his brest, Her teares will pierce into a Marble heart: The Tyger will be milde, whiles she doth mourne; And Nero will be tainted with remorse, To heare and see her plaints, her Brinish Teares. I, but shee's come to begge, Warwicke to giue: Shee on his left side, crauing ayde for Henrie; He on his right, asking a wife for Edward. Shee Weepes, and sayes, her Henry is depos'd: He Smiles, and sayes, his Edward is instaul'd; That she (poore Wretch) for greefe can speake no more: Whiles Warwicke tels his Title, smooths the Wrong, Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, And in conclusion winnes the King from her, With promise of his Sister, and what else, To strengthen and support King Edwards place. O Margaret, thus 'twill be, and thou (poore soule) Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorne