Consolation to Marcia Chapter 8

Deinde quod naturale est non decrescit mora; dolorem dies longa consumit. Licet contumacissimum, cotidie insurgentem et contra remedia effervescentem, tamen illum efficacissimum mitigandae ferociae tempus enervat. Manet quidem tibi, Marcia, etiamnunc ingens tristitia et iam videtur duxisse callum, non illa concitata, qualis initio fuit, sed pertinax et obstinata ; tamen hanc quoque tibi aetas minutatim eximet. Quotiens aliud egeris, animus relaxabitur. Nunc te ipsa custodis ; multum autem interest, utrum tibi permittas maerere an imperes. Quanto magis hoc morum tuorum elegantiae convenit, finem luctus potius facere quam expectare, nec illum opperiri diem, quo te invita dolor desinat ! Ipsa illi renuntia !

Moreover, that which depends upon nature is not weakened by delay, but grief is gradually effaced by time. However obstinate it may be, though it be daily renewed and be exasperated by all attempts to soothe it, yet even this becomes weakened by time, which is the most efficient means of taming its fierceness. You, Marcia, have still a mighty sorrow abiding with you, nevertheless it already appears to have become blunted: it is obstinate and enduring, but not so acute as it was at first: and this also will be taken from you piecemeal by succeeding years. Whenever you are engaged in other pursuits your mind will be relieved from its burden: at present you keep watch over yourself to prevent this. Yet there is a great difference between allowing and forcing yourself to grieve. How much more in accordance with your cultivated taste it would be to put an end to your mourning instead of looking for the end to come, and not to wait for the day when your sorrow shall cease against your will: dismiss it of your own accord.

De plus, ce qui est naturel ne diminue point par la durée : le temps use la douleur ; c’est en vain qu’elle se roidit, de jour en jour plus opiniâtre et que tout remède l’effarouche, celui qui sait si bien apprivoiser les plus intraitables instincts, le temps l’émoussera. Il vous reste encore, ô Marcia, un chagrin profond qui semble même endurci dans votre âme ; il n’a plus cette vivacité des premiers transports, il est tenace et obstiné ; tel qu’il est néanmoins, le temps vous le dérobera pièce à pièce. Chaque fois que d’autres soins vous occuperont, il perdra de son intensité. Jusqu’ici vous veillez à le maintenir : or ; la différence est grande entre se permettre la douleur et se l’imposer. Combien il est plus convenable à la noblesse de vos sentiments de mettre fin à votre deuil, que d’attendre qu’il veuille cesser ! Ne différez pas jusqu’au jour où il vous quittera malgré vous : quittez-le la première