Uncle Marcus, since ’tis my father’s mind
That I repair to Rome, I am content.
Now, Saturnine, you sit and watch while Titus serves his final feast.
Now, Saturnine, sit and watch. Titus is about to serve your last meal.
sit. watch. this is your final feast.
And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
So we will.
We will.
yes.
Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,
This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil;
Let him receive no sust’nance, fetter him,
Till he be brought unto the empress’ face
For testimony of her foul proceedings.
And see the ambush of our friends be strong;
I fear the emperor means no good to us.
Madam, may you flourish and prosper. But know, Tamora, this feast will be most strange. Your dainty hand will not suffice to cut this roasted meat—'tis human flesh, baked in a pie for you to eat.
Enjoy, Tamora. But this feast is going to be strange. Your delicate hand won't cut this meat—it's human flesh. Baked in a pie just for you.
this feast is strange. human flesh. baked in a pie. for you.
Some devil whisper curses in my ear,
And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth
The venomous malice of my swelling heart!
Why talk of this? Bring forward the pies. I hunger.
Why explain? Bring the pies. I'm hungry.
why explain? bring the pies.
Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave!
Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
The pies are made from Chiron and Demetrius.
They're made from Chiron and Demetrius.
from chiron and demetrius.
What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
Did he make pies of them?
He made pies from them?
pies from them?
What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?
He did.
Yes.
yes.
Titus kills Lavinia with his remaining hand, citing the Roman precedent of Virginius, the father who killed his daughter Virginia to spare her from slavery and dishonour. The parallel is precise: both daughters were violated by men in power; both fathers killed them rather than let them continue to exist in their shamed state.
Shakespeare has structured the scene so that Saturninus — the man whose court enabled the rape — provides the moral precedent for the killing. The irony is deliberate and unforgettable: the perpetrator of injustice sanctions the act of the victim's father.
But the question the play refuses to answer is whether Titus kills Lavinia for her sake, for his own sake, or for the Procne-revenge (she is needed to hold the basin in 5-2; by 5-3 she has served her purpose and can be 'released'). The scholarship is divided. Some directors have Lavinia appear to welcome the death — she places herself before her father's knife. Others present it as murder.
What seems certain is that Shakespeare intended the ambiguity. He gives Lavinia no lines in 5-3, gives Titus a legal framework that is both convincing and monstrous, and gives the audience no authoritative response to guide their reaction. The discomfort is the meaning.
Rome’s emperor, and nephew, break the parle;
These quarrels must be quietly debated.
The feast is ready which the careful Titus
Hath ordained to an honourable end,
For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome.
Please you, therefore, draw nigh and take your places.
Is not the cruel King Tereus, who was turned into a nightingale, an example? Did not Procne serve her husband his own son in a pie? So Titus has served you your sons, baked in a crust. Though terrible, Tamora, you deserve this fate.
Remember King Tereus, turned into a bird? Procne baked her husband's son in a pie and served it to him. That's what Titus did with your sons. It's ancient justice. You deserve it.
tereus. procne. baked her husband's son. served it. this is the same. justice.
Marcus, we will.
Trumpets sounding, enter Titus like a cook, placing the dishes, with
Young Lucius and others, and Lavinia with a veil over her face.
Die, frantic wretch! Such heinous crimes demand the utmost death. I myself shall slay you!
Die, you madman! Your crimes demand the worst death. I'll kill you myself!
die! frantic wretch! i'll kill you!
Welcome, my lord; welcome, dread queen;
Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius;
And welcome all. Although the cheer be poor,
’Twill fill your stomachs; please you eat of it.
Hold! Before you slay me, know I am not mad but fully aware. I slew the men who ravished my daughter and murdered my sons. Had you a son, I would have baked him too.
Wait! I'm not mad. I did this on purpose. I killed the men who raped my daughter and murdered my sons. If you had a son, I'd have baked him in a pie.
i'm not mad. i did this on purpose. they destroyed my family. if you had a son. i'd kill him.
Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?
What, brought you Lavinia in that state to shame me? Speak, Titus—why did you do this?
You brought Lavinia in that condition to shame me? Tell me—why?
why did you do this? why shame me?
Because I would be sure to have all well
To entertain your highness and your empress.
Because you stood idle while my sons were condemned to death, while my daughter was ravished and mutilated. Justice failed on earth, so I made it with my own hands.
Because you let it happen. You let my sons die, let my daughter be raped and destroyed. Earth had no justice, so I made it myself.
you did nothing. my sons died. my daughter was raped. no justice. so i made it myself.
We are beholden to you, good Andronicus.
O, I am slain!
I'm dying!
i'm dying.
An if your highness knew my heart, you were.
My lord the emperor, resolve me this:
Was it well done of rash Virginius
To slay his daughter with his own right hand,
Because she was enforced, stained, and deflowered?
You have eaten your sons. I baked them into this pie from which you fed. How does the taste of your own blood compare?
You ate your sons. I baked them.
you ate your sons.
It was, Andronicus.
Die, villain, for daring to lay hands on the emperor!
Die! You dared touch the emperor!
die! you touched the emperor!
Your reason, mighty lord?
O, I am slain! But I die knowing my revenge is complete. Lucius, take the empire and rule more justly than Saturnine.
I'm dying. But my revenge is done. Lucius, take the empire and rule better than he did.
i'm dying. my revenge is done. lucius. take the empire. rule justly.
Because the girl should not survive her shame,
And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
Seize Titus and throw him from the palace walls!
Throw him from the walls!
throw him down. from the walls.
A reason mighty, strong, and effectual;
A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant
For me, most wretched, to perform the like.
Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee;
And with thy shame thy father’s sorrow die!
I care not. My work is done.
I don't care. My work is finished.
i don't care. my work is done.
What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
Away! Burn the palace and bring every traitor to justice!
Burn it! Kill every traitor!
burn it. kill them all.
The play's engagement with Ovid's Metamorphoses reaches its conclusion here. The Philomela/Procne myth that Marcus introduced in 2-4 — 'Tereus' treason and his rape' — arrives at its logical endpoint.
In the myth: Tereus raped Philomela, cut out her tongue. Philomela wove the story into a tapestry and got it to her sister Procne. Procne took revenge by killing her own son Itys and serving him to Tereus at a feast.
In the play: Chiron and Demetrius raped Lavinia, cut out her tongue. Lavinia revealed the names using the Ovidian text itself as a guide. Titus took revenge by killing Chiron and Demetrius and serving them to Tamora at a feast.
Shakespeare marks the completion explicitly: 'For worse than Philomel you used my daughter, / And worse than Procne I will be revenged.' He makes the comparison exact and then exceeds it — worse than Philomela, worse than Procne. The play outdoes its source.
But there is a crucial difference: Procne killed her own son. Titus kills Tamora's sons. The deviation from the myth is significant: Titus is not Procne; he is something closer to the myth's dark engine, redirected. The transformation is not clean, and the play knows it.
Killed her for whom my tears have made me blind.
I am as woeful as Virginius was,
And have a thousand times more cause than he
To do this outrage, and it now is done.
My vengeance now complete, I welcome death.
My revenge is done. I'm ready.
revenge is done. i'm ready.
What, was she ravished? Tell who did the deed.
Nothing can save Rome now. All is lost!
Rome is lost! Everything's gone!
rome is lost. everything.
Will’t please you eat? Will’t please your highness feed?
Will it please you to eat? Will your highness dine?
Won't you eat? Will you have something?
eat. will you eat? please.
Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
Monster! What have you done to me? You made me eat my own children!
You made me eat them! My sons!
my sons no no no what have you done
Not I; ’twas Chiron and Demetrius.
They ravished her, and cut away her tongue;
And they, ’twas they, that did her all this wrong.
Now shall Lucius be emperor and rule Rome with more mercy than Saturnine. The cycle of revenge ends here, though at terrible cost.
Lucius will be emperor now. He'll rule better. The revenge is over, but the cost was so high.
lucius is emperor. he'll rule better. revenge is over. the cost was terrible.
Go fetch them hither to us presently.
Go, fetch them here to us at once.
Bring them here now.
bring them. now.
Why, there they are, both baked in that pie,
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
’Tis true, ’tis true; witness my knife’s sharp point.
I accept Rome's throne, and I shall bury my father and Lavinia with honor, and ensure Titus's name is remembered not as a tyrant but as a man driven to madness by injustice.
I'll take the empire. My father and sister will get proper burials. Titus will be remembered as a good man broken by cruelty, not a monster.
i'll rule. burial for my father. burial for lavinia. titus remembered justly. not as a monster. as a man destroyed.
Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed.
Come, nephew. The city weeps for Titus. Let us give the dead their dignity and the living their peace.
Lucius, Rome grieves for Titus. Let's honor the dead and bring peace to the living.
rome grieves. let's honor them. and bring peace.
Can the son’s eye behold his father bleed?
Worthy Lucius, we stand with you. Rome shall have peace under your rule.
We'll support you, Lucius. Rome will have peace.
we support you. rome will have peace.
The play ends with Rome getting a new emperor. This is politically conventional for the period — the Senecan revenge tragedy traditionally ends with a restoration of order — but Shakespeare complicates the convention in several ways.
First, Lucius is acclaiming himself emperor with a Gothic army at his back. He has threatened Rome militarily (the Coriolanus parallel). His legitimacy is at least partly based on armed force.
Second, his first decree involves Aaron: he will be buried alive and starved. This is brutal but not uniquely so for Roman legal fiction — Aaron swore a deal for the baby's safety, which Lucius keeps (the baby survives), but no deal was made for Aaron himself.
Third, Tamora is denied burial — thrown to animals. This was a profound dishonour in Roman culture, equivalent to declaring someone permanently outside civilization. Lucius does this to the woman who was once empress of Rome.
Fourth, Saturninus receives proper burial. Despite being the villain of Acts 1-4, he gets the rites of a Roman. The distinction between Saturninus (honoured in death) and Tamora (dishonoured) maps onto the play's deeper argument: Romans can be redeemed even in their failures; Tamora, the outsider, cannot.
Whether this ending satisfies or unsettles — whether we believe in Lucius's new Rome — depends on what we think the play has been saying about the Rome that preceded it.
You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome,
By uproar severed, as a flight of fowl
Scattered by winds and high tempestuous gusts,
O, let me teach you how to knit again
This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body;
Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself,
And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to,
Like a forlorn and desperate castaway,
Do shameful execution on herself.
But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
Grave witnesses of true experience,
Cannot induce you to attend my words,
Speak, Rome’s dear friend, [_to Lucius_] as erst our ancestor,
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
To love-sick Dido’s sad attending ear
The story of that baleful burning night
When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam’s Troy.
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitched our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.
My heart is not compact of flint nor steel,
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
But floods of tears will drown my oratory
And break my utterance, even in the time
When it should move you to attend me most,
And force you to commiseration.
Here’s Rome’s young captain, let him tell the tale,
While I stand by and weep to hear him speak.
People and citizens of Rome, gathered here torn apart by chaos, like birds scattered in flight, hear me. Justice has been served, though at terrible cost. The Andronician line has fallen, but Rome endures.
People of Rome, you've been scattered like birds by this chaos. Listen to me now. Justice has been done, though it cost us everything. Titus is gone, but Rome remains.
people of rome. scattered. like birds. justice is served. though at terrible cost. rome endures.
Then, noble auditory, be it known to you
That Chiron and the damned Demetrius
Were they that murdered our emperor’s brother;
And they it were that ravished our sister.
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded,
Our father’s tears despised, and basely cozened
Of that true hand that fought Rome’s quarrel out
And sent her enemies unto the grave.
Lastly, myself unkindly banished,
The gates shut on me, and turned weeping out,
To beg relief among Rome’s enemies;
Who drowned their enmity in my true tears,
And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend.
I am the turned-forth, be it known to you,
That have preserved her welfare in my blood
And from her bosom took the enemy’s point,
Sheathing the steel in my advent’rous body.
Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I;
My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
That my report is just and full of truth.
But soft, methinks I do digress too much,
Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me;
For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
Father, your suffering is over. Your name shall live in history as a man who defended Rome and paid the ultimate price for its corruption.
Father, your suffering is done. You'll be remembered as a man who loved Rome too much and paid for its sins.
father. your suffering is over. we'll remember you. as a man who loved rome. too much.
Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child.
Of this was Tamora delivered,
The issue of an irreligious Moor,
Chief architect and plotter of these woes.
The villain is alive in Titus’ house,
And as he is to witness, this is true.
Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge
These wrongs unspeakable, past patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.
Now have you heard the truth. What say you, Romans?
Have we done aught amiss? Show us wherein,
And, from the place where you behold us pleading,
The poor remainder of Andronici
Will, hand in hand, all headlong hurl ourselves,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls,
And make a mutual closure of our house.
Speak, Romans, speak, and if you say we shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.
Now I must tell you of a terrible birth—this child is the product of Tamora's lust with Aaron the Moor. Tamora bore this devil, and now it must answer for its origins.
This child was born of Tamora and Aaron. The proof of her affair. This devil must pay for its existence.
this child. tamora and aaron. proof of her affair. this devil. must pay.
Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,
And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,
Lucius our emperor; for well I know
The common voice do cry it shall be so.
Let us speak no more of the horrors past. Instead, let us remember Titus as he was in his prime—a general, a patriot, a man of honor.
Let's not dwell on the horror. Remember Titus in his glory—a great general, a patriot, a honorable man.
remember titus. as he was. a great general. a patriot. an honorable man.
Lucius, all hail, Rome’s royal emperor!
Lucius, all hail! Rome's royal emperor!
All hail, Lucius! Rome's new emperor!
all hail! lucius! rome's emperor!
Go, go into old Titus’ sorrowful house,
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor
To be adjudged some direful slaught’ring death,
As punishment for his most wicked life.
And let all Rome know that from this day forward, we shall have justice that does not require revenge, law that does not demand blood.
From now on, Rome will have justice through law, not blood. We've learned that lesson at terrible cost.
rome will have justice. through law. not blood. we learned. at terrible cost.
Lucius, all hail, Rome’s gracious governor!
And now, Tamora, you die as well. For the pleasure of my revenge.
And you die, Tamora.
you die.
Thanks, gentle Romans. May I govern so
To heal Rome’s harms and wipe away her woe!
But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
For nature puts me to a heavy task.
Stand all aloof; but, uncle, draw you near
To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.
Thank you, noble Romans. May I rule so well as to heal Rome's wounds and wash away her tears.
Thank you. I'll rule to heal Rome and ease its suffering.
thank you. i'll rule well. heal rome. ease her pain.
Five people die in Act 5, Scene 3, in approximately forty lines: Lavinia (line 25), Tamora (line 34), Titus (line 36), Saturninus (line 38), and Aaron is sentenced to slow death (lines 62-63). That is roughly one death every eight lines.
The speed is not an accident. Shakespeare compresses the killings until they become a cascade — each one causing the next. Lavinia dies → Saturninus demands explanation → Titus reveals the pie → Tamora dies → Saturninus kills Titus → Lucius kills Saturninus. The chain is mechanically inevitable once it starts.
The effect is to make the banquet feel less like a revenge fantasy fulfilled and more like an avalanche — something that, once in motion, cannot be stopped. No one in the scene, including Titus, has full control of what happens. The revenge plan 'succeeds' but in doing so it kills the revenger.
This structural choice distances the play from a clean catharsis. The cascade of deaths is not triumphant; it is terrible, even if necessary. Titus dies having done what he came to do — and the cost is everything.'
Tear for tear and loving kiss for kiss
Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips.
O, were the sum of these that I should pay
Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them.
Every tear I shed is for your grandfather. I kiss you as he would have, with all my love and sorrow.
Every tear is for your grandfather. I kiss you with his love and my sorrow.
every tear. for grandfather. kiss you. with love and sorrow.
Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us
To melt in showers. Thy grandsire loved thee well.
Many a time he danced thee on his knee,
Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow;
Many a story hath he told to thee,
And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind
And talk of them when he was dead and gone.
Come here, child. Learn from us how to weep. Your grandfather loved you dearly.
Come here. Learn from us how to grieve. Your grandfather loved you so much.
come here. learn to weep. grandfather loved you.
How many thousand times hath these poor lips,
When they were living, warmed themselves on thine!
O, now, sweet boy, give them their latest kiss.
Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave.
Do them that kindness, and take leave of them.
How many thousand times did these lips warm themselves against yours, when he lived! His affection for you was endless.
When he was alive, he kissed you endlessly. His love for you was boundless.
endless kisses. endless love. he adored you.
O grandsire, grandsire, e’en with all my heart
Would I were dead, so you did live again!
O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping;
My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth.
O grandfather, grandfather! With all my heart, I wish I could die so that you might live again!
Grandfather! I wish I could die so you'd live again!
i wish i could die. so you'd live again. grandfather.
You sad Andronici, have done with woes.
Give sentence on the execrable wretch
That hath been breeder of these dire events.
You grieving Andronici, end your sorrows now. Pass judgment on this execrable wretch—Aaron deserves death.
Andronici, stop your grief. Judge this monster. Aaron must die.
stop grieving. judge him. aaron must die.
Set him breast-deep in earth and famish him;
There let him stand and rave and cry for food.
If anyone relieves or pities him,
For the offence he dies. This is our doom.
Some stay to see him fastened in the earth.
Bury him waist-deep in earth. Let him stand there, starving, screaming for food until he dies of hunger.
Bury him to his chest in earth. Let him stand there, starving and screaming until he dies.
bury him. to his chest. let him starve. let him scream. let him die hungry.
Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb?
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done.
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will.
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.
Why should wrath stay silent? I am no baby begging with weak prayers. I stand unrepentant, and I curse you all!
Why stay silent? I'm not some pleading baby. I spit on you all and curse your names!
why silent? i'm not broken. i curse you. i curse you all.
Some loving friends convey the emperor hence,
And give him burial in his father’s grave.
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closed in our household’s monument.
As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora,
No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weed,
No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey.
Her life was beastly and devoid of pity;
And being dead, let birds on her take pity.
Some of you, carry the dead emperor with honor and bury him in his father's tomb. Even he deserves that dignity.
Take Saturnine's body with respect and bury him with his father. Even he deserves that much.
carry saturnine. with respect. bury him. with his father. even he deserves dignity.
The Reckoning
The bloodiest table in Shakespeare. Five deaths in approximately sixty lines — Lavinia, Tamora, Titus, Saturninus, and (off-stage) Aaron's slow death is decreed. The banquet fulfils every promise the play has been building since Act 2: the Philomela/Procne myth is completed; Tamora eats her children; Titus dies having done what he set out to do. What follows is neither triumph nor resolution — it is the aftermath of total devastation, and the play is honest about the cost.
If this happened today…
A family that has been systematically destroyed by people in power stages a final reckoning — and everyone at the table dies. The new person left standing is the survivor who spent the whole play trying to fix things from outside. He inherits a city in ruins and has to figure out what to do with the wreckage, including the child of the person who caused everything.