Othello (Annotated): The Moor of Venice

by William Shakespeare

When remedies are past, the griefs are ended By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.

When there's nothing you can do to fix a situation, there's no use crying about it anymore, because you've already survived seeing the worst outcome of your former hopes. To be sad after something bad happens only makes it worse.

O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four times seven years; and since I could distinguish betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man that knew how to love himself.

Oh, please! I've been around for twenty-eight years, and ever since I've known the difference between a good thing and a bad thing, I've never yet found a man who knew what was good for him.

Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.

You can't help it? A lie! It's all up to you. Our bodies are like gardens, and our willpower is the gardener.We can have all sorts of different plants in the garden, but whether they grow well or not is up to our will.

It gives me wonder great as my content To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!

I'm surprised, but happy to see that you made it here before me. Oh, my soul is overjoyed! If this is my reward for every sea-storm, then let the winds rage and blow all they can

The heavens forbid But that our loves and comforts should increase, Even as our days do grow!

May heaven give us even more love and comfort as we get older.

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!

I remember everything in a big haze. I can't recall the particulars. I remember the fight, but not the reason for it. Oh, why do men drink their enemy, which robs them of their senses! Why do we celebrate by willingly turning ourselves into beasts?

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock The meat it feeds on;

Oh, my lord, beware of jealousy! It is a green-eyed monster that mocks whoever it eats away at.