In Hamilton, a gunshot symbolizes intense ambition—and the link between such ambition and a fear of death. Early on in the first act, a young Alexander Hamilton introduces his life goal: “hey yo / I’m just like my country / I’m young scrappy and hungry / and I’m not throwing away my shot!” In other words, a shot is a chance—as an immigrant with no connection in the burgeoning United States, Hamilton is desperate to make his mark whenever the opportunity arises. Composer Lin-Manuel Miranda, who identifies deeply with his protagonist’s ambition, explains that this sense of hunger comes from a knowledge of life’s limitations: “the ticking clock is loud in both our ears,” Miranda acknowledges, “and it sets us to work.” Or as Hamilton himself puts it, “I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.”
Indeed, if a “shot” can be an opportunity, a literal shot is a cause of death, both on the battlefield (as in “Guns and Ships”) and off of it. Hamilton is set at the turn of the 19th century, when duels were part of political life. Both Hamilton and his beloved son Philip are prone to dueling, and both are killed by gunshots. Most touchingly, when Hamilton faces off with his nemesis Aaron Burr, he chooses to “point his pistol in the air” rather than shooting, meaning he literally throws away his shot rather than kill someone else. Ultimately, then, the symbol of the shot shows Hamilton’s ambitions—but it also shows that, at least by the end of the musical, he values others’ lives and hopes just as much as his own.
Gunshots Quotes in Hamilton
HAMILTON: I am not throwing away my shot!
I am not throwing away my shot!
Hey yo, I’m just like my country,
I’m young, scrappy and hungry,
And I’m not throwing away my shot!
BURR: They won’t teach you this in your classes,
But look it up, Hamilton was wearing his glasses.
Why? If not to take deadly aim?
It’s him or me, the world will never be the same.
I had only one thought before the slaughter:
This man will not make an orphan of my daughter.
HAMILTON: If I throw away my shot, is this how you remember me?
What if this bullet is my legacy?
Legacy. What is a legacy?
It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.
I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me.
America, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for me.
You let me make a difference.
A place where even orphan immigrants can leave their fingerprints and rise up.
I’m running out of time, I’m running and my time’s up. Wise up. Eyes up.