Wherein, then, is your grievance? You are not ejected from the city [life] by any unjust judge or tyrant, but by the selfsame Nature which brought you into it; just as when an actor is dismissed by the manager who engaged him.
“But I have played no more than three of the five acts.” Just so; in your drama of life, three acts are all the play. Its point of completeness is determined by him who formerly sanctioned your creation, and today sanctions your dissolution. Neither of those decisions lay within yourself.
Pass on your way, then, with a smiling face, under the smile of him who bids you go.[τί οὖν δεινόν, εἰ τῆς πόλεως ἀποπέμπει σε οὐ τύραννος οὐδὲ δικαστὴς ἄδικος, ἀλλ̓ ἡ φύσις ἡ εἰσαγαγοῦσα, οἷον εἰ κωμῳδὸν ἀπολύοι τῆς σκηνῆς ὁ παραλαβὼν στρατηγός;—ἀλλ̓ οὐκ εἶπον τὰ πέντε μέρη, ἀλλὰ τὰ τρία.—καλῶς εἶπας: ἐν μέντοι τῷ βίῳ τὰ τρία ὅλον τὸ δρᾶμά ἐστι. τὸ γὰρ τέλειον ἐκεῖνος ὁρίζει ὁ τότε μὲν τῆς συγκρίσεως. νῦν δὲ τῆς διαλύσεως αἴτιος: σὺ δὲ ἀναίτιος ἀμφοτέρων. ἄπιθι οὖν ἵλεως: καὶ γὰρ ὁ ἀπολύων ἵλεως.]
Marcus Aurelius (AD 121-180) Roman emperor (161-180), Stoic philosopher
Meditations [To Himself; Τὰ εἰς ἑαυτόν], Book 12, ch. 36 (12.36) (AD 161-180) [tr. Staniforth (1964)]
(Source)
Concluding words of the Meditations. See Cicero (44 BC).
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Why then should it be grievous unto thee, if (not a tyrant, nor an unjust judge, but) the same nature that brought thee in, doth now send thee out of the world? As if the praetor should fairly dismiss him from the stage, whom he had taken in to act a while.
Oh, but the play is not yet at an end, there are but three acts yet acted of it? Thou hast well said: for in matter of life, three acts is the whole play. Now to set a certain time to every man's acting, belongs unto him only, who as first he was of thy composition, so is now the cause of thy dissolution. As for thyself; thou hast to do with neither.
Go thy ways then well pleased and contented: for so is He that dismisseth thee.
[tr. Casaubon (1634), 12.27]You can't say you are sent off by a Tyrannical, and Unrighteous Sentence; No, you quit the Stage as fairly as a Player does that has his Discharge from the Master of the Revels:
But I have only gone through three Acts, and not held out to the End of the Fifth. You say well; but in Life three Acts make the Play entire. He that appoints the Entertainment is the best Judge of the length on't; and as he ordered the opening of the first Scene, so now he gives the sign for shutting up the last: You are neither accountable for one or to'ther;
Therefore retire in good Humour, for He by whom you are dismiss'd means you no harm.
[tr. Collier (1701)]What is there terrible in this, that you are sent out, not by a tyrant, or an unjust judge, but by that nature, which at first introduced you? As if the praetor who employed the player, should dismiss him again from the scene.
But, say you, I have not finished the five acts, but only three. You say true; but, in life, three acts make a complete play. For, ’tis he who appoints the end to it, who, as he was the cause of the composition, is now the cause of the dissolution. Neither of them are chargeable on you:
Depart, therefore, contented, and in good humour; for, he is propitious and kind, who dismisses you.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]Is it any hardship that you are sent out of the world, not by a tyrant, or an unjust judge, but by that Being which first introduced you? As the magistrate who engages an actor for the stage, dismisses him again at his pleasure.
"But I have performed only three acts of the play, and not the whole five."
Very true; but in life, even three acts may complete the whole drama. He determines the duration of the piece, who first cause it to be composed, and now orders its conclusion. You are not accountable for either.
Depart, therefore, with a good grace; for he who dismisses you is a gracious and benevolent Being.
[tr. Graves (1792)]Where is the hardship then, if no tyrant nor yet an unjust judge sends thee away from the state, but nature, who brought thee into it? the same as if a praetor who has employed an actor dismisses him from the stage.
-- "But I have not finished the five acts, but only three of them." -- Thou sayest well, but in life the three acts are the whole drama; for what shall be a complete drama is determined by him who was once the cause of its composition, and now of its dissolution: but thou art the cause of neither.
Depart then satisfied, for he also who releases thee is satisfied.
[tr. Long (1862)]Where is the hardship then if nature, that planted you here, orders your removal? You cannot say you are sent off by a tyrant or unjust judge. No; you quit the stage as fairly as a player does that has his discharge from the master of the revels.
But I have only gone through three acts, and not held out to the end of the fifth. You say well; but in life three acts make the play entire. He that ordered the opening of the first scene now gives the sign for shutting up the last; you are neither accountable for one nor the other;
Therefore retire well satisfied, for He, by whom you are dismissed, is satisfied too.
[tr. Collier/Zimmern (1887)]Why then protest? No tyrant gives you your dismissal, no unjust judge, but nature who gave you the admission. It is like the praetor discharging some player whom he has engaged.
-- "But the five acts are not complete; I have played but three." -- Good: life's drama, look you, is complete in three. The completeness is in his hands, who first authorized your composition, and now your dissolution; neither was your work.
Serenely take your leave; serene as he who gives you discharge.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]Where then is the calamity, if you are sent out of the city, by no tyrant or unjust judge, but Nature herself who at first introduced you, just as the praetor who engaged the actor again dismisses him from the stage?
“But,” say you, “I have not spoken my five acts, but only three.” True, but in life three acts make up the play. For he sets the end who was responsible for its composition at the first, and for its present dissolution. You are responsible for neither.
Depart then graciously; for he who dismisses you is gracious.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]What hardship then is there in being banished from the city, not by a tyrant or an unjust judge but by Nature who settled thee in it? So might a praetor who commissions a comic actor, dismiss him from the stage.
But I have not played my five acts, but only three. Very possibly, but in life three acts count as a full play. For he, that is responsible for thy composition originally and thy dissolution now, decides when it is complete. But thou art responsible for neither.
Depart then with a good grace, for he that dismisses thee is gracious.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]Why is it hard, then, if Nature who brought you in, and no despot nor unjust judge, sends you out of the City -- as though the master of the show, who engaged an actor, were to dismiss him from the stage?
"But I have not spoken my five acts, only three." "What you say is true, but in life three acts are the whole play." For He determines the perfect whole, the cause yesterday of your composition, to-day of your dissolution; you are the cause of neither.
Leave the stage, therefore, and be reconciled, for He also who lets his servant depart is reconciled.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]Where is the hardship, then, if it is no tyrant or unjust judge who sends you out of the city, but nature who brought you into it? It is just as if the director of a show, after first engaging an actor, were dismissing him from the stage.
"But I haven't played all five acts, only three!" Very well; but in life three can make up a full play. For the one who determines when it is complete is he who once arranged for your composition and now arranges for your dissolution, while you for your part are responsible for neither.
So make your departure with good grace, as he who is releasing you shows a good grace.
[tr. Hard (1997 ed.; 2011 ed.)]And to be sent away from it, not by a tyrant or a dishonest judge, but by Nature, who first invited you in -- why is that so terrible?
Like the impresario ringing down the curtain on an actor:
“But I’ve only gotten through three acts ...!”
Yes. This will be a drama in three acts, the length fixed by the power that directed your creation, and now directs your dissolution. Neither was yours to determine.
So make your exit with grace -- the same grace shown to you.
[tr. Hays (2003)]So what is there to fear in your dismissal from the city? This is no tyrant or corrupt judge who dismisses you, but the very same nature that brought you in. It is like the officer who engaged a comic actor dismissing him from the stage.
"But I have not played my five acts, only three." "True, but in life three acts can be the whole play." Completion is determined by that being who caused first your composition and now your dissolution. You have no part in either causation.
Go then in peace: the god who lets you go is at peace with you.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]
Quotations about:
departure
Note not all quotations have been tagged, so Search may find additional quotes on this topic.
Some men improve the world only by leaving it.
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) Irish poet, wit, dramatist
(Spurious)
Not found in Wilde's writing; its earliest appearance is around AD 2000. Nor is a related quotation authentic to Wilde: "Some cause happiness wherever they go; other whenever they go," which first shows up in 1908, after Wilde's death.
Note that the orator Robert Ingersoll, discussing suppression of thought and mob mentality, wrote in his lecture "Plea for Individuality and Arraignment of the Church" (1873-12-21) (emphasis mine):It is mortifying to feel that you belong to a mental mob and cry "crucify him," because others do; that you reap what the great and brave have sown, and that you can benefit the world only by leaving it.
That is the earliest reference I can find to that phrasing, but it is unclear if the phrase was borrowed from Ingersoll and put into the mouth of Wilde.
But if, in addition, you would like an unphilosophical rule which appeals to the heart, nothing will make you more cheerful in the face of death than to consider the things from which you are about to be parted, and the sort of characters with whom your soul will no longer be entangled.
[Εἰ δὲ καὶ ἰδιωτικὸν παράπηγμα ἁψικάρδιον θέλεις, μάλιστά σε εὔκολον πρὸς τὸν θάνατον ποιήσει ἡ ἐπίστασις ἡ ἐπὶ τὰ ὑποκείμενα, ὧν μέλλεις ἀφίστασθαι, καὶ μεθ̓ ἠθῶν οὐκέτι ἔσται ἡ … ἐμπεφυρμένη.]
Marcus Aurelius (AD 121-180) Roman emperor (161-180), Stoic philosopher
Meditations [To Himself; Τὰ εἰς ἑαυτόν], Book 9, ch. 3 (9.3) (AD 161-180) [tr. Hard (1997 ed.)]
(Source)
Hard gives the same translation in their 2011 edition.(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:But thou desirest a more popular, and though not so direct and philosophical, yet a very powerful and penetrative recipe against the fear of death, nothing can make they more willing to part with thy life, than if thou shalt consider, both what the subjects themselves are that thou shalt part with, and what manner of disposition thou shalt no more have to do with.
[tr. Casaubon (1634)]But if you stand in need of a Vulgar Remedy, and want a Cordial to make Dying go down the better, you shall have it. Consider then what sort of World, and what sort of Humours, you will be Rid of!
[tr. Collier (1701)]If you want also a popular support, here is one which goes to the heart: you will be extremely easy with regard to death, if you consider the objects you are going to leave; and the manners of that confused croud from which you are to be disengaged.
[tr. Hutcheson/Moor (1742)]But (if you would have a popular remedy, yet what may prove a cordial, against the fear of death) it will greatly contribute to this end, if you consider what sort of world you are to leave, and with what sort of characters you will no longer be conversant.
[tr. Graves (1792)]But if thou requirest also a vulgar kind of comfort which shall reach thy heart, thou wilt be made best reconciled to death by observing the objects from which thou art going to be removed, and the morals of those with whom thy soul will no longer be mingled.
[tr. Long (1862)]But if you stand in need of a vulgar remedy to soothe the mind, consider, then, what sort of world and what sort of customs you will be rid of!
[tr. Collier/Zimmern (1887)]If your heart asks for some simple and effective reassurance, the best solace against death is correct appreciation of the material things from which you are to part, and of the moral natures with which your soul will then cease to intermingle.
[tr. Rendall (1898)]If you wish for the common sort of comfort, here is a thought which goes to the heart. You will be completely resigned to death if you consider the things you are about to leave, and the morals of that confused crowd from which your soul is to be disengaged.
[tr. Hutcheson/Chrystal (1902)]But if thou desirest a commonplace solace too that will appeal to the heart, nothing will enable thee to meet death with equanimity better than to observe the environment thou art leaving and the sort of characters with whom thy soul shall no longer be mixed up.
[tr. Haines (Loeb) (1916)]And if you would have an everyday rule to touch your heart, it will make you most contented with death to dwell upon the objects from which you are about to be parted and the kind of characters with whom your soul will be no longer contaminated.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]But if your heart would have comfort of a simpler sort, then there is no better solace in the face of death than to think on the nature of the surroundings you are leaving, and the characters you will no longer have to mix with.
[tr. Staniforth (1964)]Or perhaps you need some tidy aphorism to tuck away in the back of your mind. Well, consider two things that should reconcile you to death: the nature of the things you’ll leave behind you, and the kind of people you’ll no longer be mixed up with.
[tr. Hays (2003)]If you want another criterion — unscientific but emotionally effective — you will find it quite easy to face death if you stop to consider the business you will be leaving and the sort of characters which will no longer contaminate your soul.
[tr. Hammond (2006)]If you want a private passage at hand to soothe your heart, the knowledge of the world around you will give you some solace at death, the world you leave and the kind of people your soul will no longer be associated with.
[tr. @sentantiq (2017)]If a person waiting for death should require some vulgar comfort, they can be more reconciled to death by remembering the evils from which they will be removed, and the morals of those they will no longer have to live with.
[tr. McNeill (2019)]
CHORUS: Come away, dear ones, come away.
To the camp, to the place of the ships, to the sea,
To the strange new life of slavery,
For all are the slaves of Destiny.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: ἴτε πρὸς λιμένας σκηνάς τε, φίλαι,
τῶν δεσποσύνων πειρασόμεναι
μόχθων: στερρὰ γὰρ ἀνάγκη.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 1293ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Sheppard (1924)]
(Source)
Closing lines, as the Trojan women captives (including Hecuba) are taken back to Greece.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:To the haven go,
And to the tents, my friends, t'endure the toils
Our lords impose: for thus harsh fate enjoins.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Come, my friends, to the harbor, and the tents, to undergo the tasks imposed by our masters. For necessity is relentless.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]To the tents, O friends, to the haven fare;
The yoke of thraldom our necks must bear.
Fate knows not pity, fate will not spare.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Away to the harbour and the tents, my friends, to prove the toils of slavery! for such is fate's relentless hest.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]File to the tents,
file to the harbor.
There we embark
on life as slaves.
Necessity is harsh.
Fate has no reprieve.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]Go to the shoreline and our masters' tents. Find out from them what work we're forced to do. We've got no choice. No choice at all. We're slaves.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Go, my friends! Go to the ports and to the tents, my friends! Go and taste the hardship of slavery!
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]-- To the harbor now. -- To the tents.
-- It is time to embark. -- It is time to board
our new lives as slaves. -- But the taste
is bitter. -- Necessity is hard.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
Farewell!
For in that word — that fatal word — howe’er
We promise — hope — believe, — here breathes despair.George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
The Corsair, Canto 1, st. 15, l. 86ff (1814)
(Source)
Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.
Few men of action have been able to make a graceful exit at the appropriate time.
Malcolm Muggeridge (1903-1990) British journalist, author, media personality, satirist
“Twilight of Greatness,” The Most of Malcolm Muggeridge (1966)
Going away: I can generally bear the separation, but I don’t like the leave-taking.
Samuel Butler (1835-1902) English novelist, satirist, scholar
(Attributed)
All things are best when done without excess: it is as wrong to hurry off a guest who does not wish to leave as to detain a man who longs for home. Kind care for those who stay — and warm farewells for those who go.
[ἶσόν τοι κακόν ἐσθ᾽, ὅς τ᾽ οὐκ ἐθέλοντα νέεσθαι
ξεῖνον ἐποτρύνει καὶ ὃς ἐσσύμενον κατερύκει.
χρὴ ξεῖνον παρεόντα φιλεῖν, ἐθέλοντα δὲ πέμπειν.]Homer (fl. 7th-8th C. BC) Greek author
The Odyssey [Ὀδύσσεια], Book 15, l. 72ff (15.72) [Menelaus to Telemachus] (c. 700 BC) [tr. Mandelbaum (1990)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:A like ill ’tis, to thrust out such a guest
As would not go, as to detain the rest.
We should a guest love, while he loves to stay,
And, when he likes not, give him loving way.
[tr. Chapman (1616)]I purpose not to make you longer stay;
For I conceive ’tis not a good man’s part,
To make too much or little of his guest,
To hold him when he gladly would depart,
Or press him to begone e’er he thinks best.
In hospitality this rule is true:
Love him that stays, help forth the going guest.
[tr. Hobbes (1675), l. 60ff]Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,
Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend:
True friendship's laws are by this rule express'd,
Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.
[tr. Pope (1725)]The middle course is best; alike we err,
Him thrusting forth whose wish is to remain,
And hind’ring the impatient to depart.
This only is true kindness -- To regale
The present guest, and speed him when he would.
[tr. Cowper (1792), l. 82ff]Let us in all things the true mean apply;
Roughness offends, and over-courtesy.
He to my mind an equal sin doth show
Who, when a guest would linger, hints good-bye,
And who, if one desire to part, says no.
Love well the tarrying guest, and speed him fain to go.
[tr. Worsley (1861), st. 9]An equal wrong it is to drive away
The guest, who fain would tarry; and to keep
Against his will the guest who fain would go!
'Tis right to treat with love the tarrying guest;
And speed on his way the guest, who wills to go!
[tr. Bigge-Wither (1869), l. 72ff]Those acts which to strict equity conform
Are worthiest ever: and the selfsame wrong
Doth he commit who from his home would drive
The guest who fain would linger there, -- with him
Who stays the man that on his way would speed.
[tr. Musgrave (1869), l. 113ff]He does equal wrong who speeds a guest that would fain abide, and stays one who is in haste to be gone. Men should lovingly entreat the present guest and speed the parting.
[tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]For in all things measure is best.
And good is neither fashion, to thrust out the willing guest
Who is fain to abide, or to stay him who longeth to be on the road;
But to cherish the guest that abideth and to speed the departer is good.
[tr. Morris (1887), l. 71ff]It is an equal fault to thrust away the guest who does not care to go, and to detain the impatient. Best make the stranger welcome while he stays, and speed him when he wishes.
[tr. Palmer (1891)]Moderation is best in all things, and not letting a man go when he wants to do so is as bad as telling him to go if he would like to stay. One should treat a guest well as long as he is in the house and speed him when he wants to leave it.
[tr. Butler (1898)]'Tis equal wrong if a man speed on a guest who is loath to go, and if he keep back one that is eager to be gone. One should make welcome the present guest, and send forth him that would go.
[tr. Murray (1919)]There should be moderation in all things, and it is equally offensive to speed a guest who would like to stay and to detain one who is anxious to leave. What I say is, treat a man well while he’s with you, but let him go when he wishes.
[tr. Rieu (1946)]It is equally bad when one speeds on the guest unwilling to go, and when he holds back one who is hastening. Rather one should befriend the guest who is there, but speed him when he wishes.
[tr. Lattimore (1965)]Balance is best in all things. It’s bad either way,
spurring the stranger home who wants to linger,
holding the one who longs to leave -- you know,
‘Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest!’
[tr. Fagles (1996)]It's just as wrong to rush a guest's departure
When he doesn't want to go, as it is
To hold him back when he is ready to leave.
Make a guest welcome for as long as he stays
And send him off whenever he wants to go.
[tr. Lombardo (2000), l. 74ff]There should be moderation in all things, and it is equally offensive to speed a guest who would like to stay and to detain one who is anxious to leave. Treat a man well while he's with you, but let him go when he wishes.
[tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]It is, I think, an equal failing to speed a guest's departure when he is reluctant to leave and to detain him when eager to go. One must care for the guest in one's house, but send him on when he wishes.
[tr. Verity (2016)]To force a visitor to stay is just as bad as pushing him to go. Be kind to guests while they are visiting, then help them on their way.
[tr. Wilson (2017)]It's just as wrong to urge a guest's departure against his will as to keep him when it's itching to be off. Treat your guest well while he's there, let him go when he wants.
[tr. Green (2018)]It’s bad when someone does not want to leave
to be too quick to send him on his way,
but just as bad is holding someone back
when he’s ready to depart. For a host
should welcome any guest in front of him
and send away the one who wants to go.
[tr. Johnston (2019), l. 94ff]
There is a time for departure even when there’s no certain place to go.
