“Wasn’t that the ending?”

“You call that an ending? With practically everyone still on their feet? My goodness, gracious no. Over your dead body. There’s a design at work in all art. Surely you know that. The ends must play themselves out to an aesthetic, moral and logical conclusion.”

“What’s that in this case?”

“It never varies. We aim for the point where everyone who is marked for death, dies.”

“Marked?”

“Generally speaking, things have gone about as far as they can possibly go, when things have got about as bad as they can reasonably get.”

“Who decides?”

“Decides? It is written. We are tragedians. You see, we follow directions. There is no choice involved. The bad end unhappily. The good end unluckily. That is what tragedy means. Next.”

TOM STOPPARD