Admetus, you see the things I suffer;
And now before I die, I mean to tell you what I wish,
Since you must love these children no less than I.
Let them be masters in my house;
Marry not again and set a stepmother over them,
A woman harsher than I, who in her jealousy
Will lift her hand against my children and yours.
Ah! Not this, let not this be, I entreat you!
The new stepmother hates the first wife’s children,
The viper itself is not more cruel.
The son indeed finds a strong rampart in his father—
But you, my daughter,
How shall you live your virgin life out in happiness?
How will you fare with your father’s new wife?
Ah! Let her not cast evil report upon you
And thus wreck your marriage in the height of your youth!
You will have no mother, O my child, to give you in marriage,
To comfort you in childbed when none is tenderer than a mother!
Farewell! Live happy!
You, my husband, may boast you had the best of wives;
And you, my children, that you lost the best of mothers!