When our dear parents died, they died together;
One fate surprised them, and one grave received them.
My father with his dying breath bequeathed
Her to my love; my mother, as she lay
Languishing by him, called me to her side,
Took me in her fainting arms, wept, and embraced me;
Then pressed me close, and, as she observed my tears,
Kissed them away. Said she, Chamont, my son,
By this, and all the love I ever showed thee,
Be careful of Monimia, watch her youth,