You’ll Be Back

Original King George and Groff as King George

From the original casting call:

KING GEORGE: tenor, British accent. The King of England. Entitled, pouty nihilist. Sees the American Colonies as a deluded former lover, who will come crawling back. Rufus Wainwright meets King Herod in JCS.

In the original Broadway cast, King George was played by Jonathan Groff.

King George is the only principal character in the original production who is white, and in fact the only principal specifically cast as white. Many other mainstream stories set a white character amongst people of color in order for a (predominantly white) audience to identify with them. In Hamilton, this expectation is flipped on its head.

The fact that all of King George’s songs are solo showcases the difference between a monarchy and a democratic republic. The new US government was constructed to prevent one solo leader from stealing the show. The songs reflect this lone leader and vocalist against a congress and chorus.

King George is also a cameo role. With only three short songs (all solo) and simple choreography, prominent actors can learn the part without the months of rehearsal required for a typical Broadway role. In Hamilton’s first year, Jonathan Groff, Brian d’Arcy James, and Andrew Rannells all played the part. The three men performed a fantastic lip-synced version of the Schuyler Sisters during one of the lottery #ham4ham parties outside the Richard Rogers theater.

This A section—“The price of my love’s not a price that you’re willing to pay”—references the opening melody from The Beatles‘ “With A Little Help From My Friends,” during “what would you do if I sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me?” A sentiment that King George plaintively echoes here.

As is discussed earlier in “Farmer Refuted”, and basically throughout Hamilton, one of the primary grievances put forth by American subjects prior to and at the start of the Revolution was “taxation without representation,” i.e. Britain reserved the right to make Americans pay taxes on goods and trade without allowing them representation in the British Parliament which set the tax rates.

The resentment of the American people toward these taxes was famously realized in the Boston Tea Party, when the rebel group the Sons of Liberty staged a protest of the Tea Act by seizing a shipment of British-controlled East India Company tea and hurling it into Boston Harbor, ruining the goods. British Parliament responded to this demonstration with strict sanctions on Boston written out in the Coercive Acts, better known as the Intolerable Acts, further mounting tensions, inspiring colonists to convene the Continental Congress, and eventually inciting revolution.

HOWEVER, to be fair to ol' George, the “taxation without representation” outcry was in many ways an excuse for colonists to dramatize their general hostility to rule by a largely absent England. By the time of the Tea Party, there were virtually no taxes imposed by England on the colonies except for one—a tax on tea, which was imposed solely, as the King said, to preserve England’s right to impose taxes on the colonies if it wished to do so. The elimination of other taxes reflected England’s understanding that there was political unrest on the taxation issue, and its effort to quell such unrest.

So there was a lot of posturing on both sides of the Atlantic over (the relatively small “dollar” amount" of) the tea tax.

King George makes an exaggerated pout after the line, mocking the dismay of his “subjects,” then follows up with the scolding, “Remember we made an arrangement…”

When the original thirteen colonies were being established, the British Parliament had a finger in the affairs of the fledgling nation. They took a largely hands-off approach in the first fifty years after colonization. But soon, Britain realized what a goldmine they were sitting on, and they started imposing rules and taxes on the colonists at will. These rules and taxes started to get a little too intolerable, and history tells us what became of that arrangement…

Wordplay! The word “mad” can mean either “angry” or “insane.” This contributes to the creepy love song vibe—you’re making me angry, you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry—as well as creating a connection to actual history: see below for more information on King George’s madness.

Another moment that evokes the creepy love song genre—particularly Michael Bublé’s cover of Leonard Cohen’s “I’m Your Man,” which has intensely controlling romantic overtones.

The founding generation continually debated the influence of Britain in the new nation. By the time of the Hartford Convention in 1814-15, a few radical federalists suggested New England’s secession and stronger ties with Great Britain.

The Hartford Convention - Today in History: December 15 | ConnecticutHistory.org — Connecticuthistory

On December 15, 1814, delegates to the Hartford Convention met in secret at the Old State House in Hartford. The Massachusetts legislature had requested the conference in October and delegates from the Connecticut, Rhode Island, Vermont, and New Hampshire legislatures met for three weeks to draft a formal protest against the Federal Government's continued involvement in the War of 1812, which allied the United States with France against Great Britain.

At this point in Alex Lacamoire’s arrangement, the accompaniment switches from piano to harpsichord, harking back the 18th century (“You’ll be back” indeed) and moving this creepy possessive-love ballad into the Baroque pop of the Beatles. The staccato quarter notes also set the tempo for the rest of the song, not to mention the tone — jaunty and a bit menacing.

Whoops, we already did some “see” rhymes in this song, didn’t we?

By this point, you might be getting the sense that poor King George is not very good at this music-writing thing. The rhyme scheme in this song is mostly very simple: pairs of (mostly long) lines with short rhyming words at the end. These rhymes are straightforward and mostly monosyllabic: “say”/“pay”, “cry”/“by”, “sad”/“mad”. In fact, all of the language George uses is simple and straightforward; “estrangement” is the most difficult word. When properly punctuated, the lyrics are at roughly a fourth-grade reading level.

George only has one line with internal rhymes, and those rhymes are defective in two ways. Firstly, the “tea”/“sea” rhyme is actually appropriated from Alexander Hamilton in “Farmer Refuted”, who also used it in a far more sophisticated way to discuss the Boston Tea Party (“Why should a tiny island across the sea regulate the price of tea?”)

Secondly, the “sea”/“see” rhyme is an example of a “rich rhyme”, a rhyme of homophones. Rich rhymes are highly valued in the poetry of other languages, particularly French, but English poetry disfavors them.

“Arrangement”/“estrangement” and “draining”/“complaining” aren’t too bad, and he deploys non-musical rhetorical devices (particularly repetition) very nicely, but compared to the other characters in this show, George is simply not up to par. Nine-year-old Philip does better.

It’s almost like hereditary inheritance doesn’t necessarily put the most talented people in the spotlight, isn’t it?

The whole song makes explicit the implicit creepiness of a lot of stalkerish “love” songs where the singer describes the object of their affection as their possession or property. This line in particular may be a reference to the 1952 song “You Belong to Me,” but the phrasing is so ubiquitous that the reference expands to cover an entire genre.

The American Revolution occurred at the height of the Age of Enlightenment and is largely a direct byproduct of that philosophical revolution.

Prior to this period, Kings were considered to rule by a divine right, bestowed upon them by God. However, prominent Enlightenment thinkers like Locke and Rousseau introduced the Social Contract theory that the King rules by the will of the people, and that His subjects had an inherent duty to overthrow him if he failed to protect their fundamental rights to ward off tyranny. This line implies that the king is “stooping” to the level of this public consensus, arguing that he served his subjects well, and did not deserve this revolution and its associated accusations of tyranny.

This line is likely a particular reference to the Seven Years War’s American theater, the French and Indian War, which ultimately led to the end of French colonies in North America. British forces and support brought victory in that instance, and the end of those colonies created greater security for the British colonies in North America.

Unfortunately for England, that increased security also meant less rationale for the presence of British forces in the thirteen Colonies and less tolerance from the colonists to pay British taxes.

Miranda creates friction between lyric and melody here by going down a few notes on the word “rise” and soaring up the scale on the word “fall” – like writing the word “green” in red ink. In a 2016 screening of Mary Poppins, Miranda said he’d stolen this idea from the Sherman brothers, who used it in “A Spoonful of Sugar.”

This is the only line repeated throughout all three of King George’s songs. That may suggest that while many things change about the relationship between England and the U.S. in the musical, the rhythm of time will always pass in the same way—at least it will in England.

The line “oceans rise” probably doesn’t carry its modern association here, but refers to the ebbing and flowing tide as a reminder of the limits of political power. According to legend, a monarch’s inability to turn back the tide was memorably illustrated by the 11th Century Danish and English King Cnut the Great, who happens to have been the brother-in-law of George’s 23x-great-grandfather.

There’s also a possible echo of a quote often attributed to King Louis XV of France (a contemporary of George III): “Après moi le déluge,” or “After me, the Flood,” i.e. “As long as it doesn’t happen until I’m dead, I don’t care.” His death in 1774 means that he did manage to miss the rising tide that was Lafayette and company.

Early in King George III’s reign, America and England fought together in the Seven Years War, where England became the major super power in the world.

An entire theater of the war was fought in America, called the French and Indian War, where the Colonies helped England (and themselves, by extension) gain control over New France (the area of America under French control).

Many young officers who fought in the French and Indian War would go on to fight against England in the American Revolution, including our main squeeze, George Washington.

By the time he reaches these lines, King George’s mixture of arrogance and simpering petulance resembles the delivery of King Herod in his turn in Jesus Christ Superstar. Though Herod has more song-and-dance razzmatazz.

This line gets a big laugh, and for good reason. King George’s pointed threat “a fully armed battalion” makes for an extreme contrast after the mostly generalized romantic sentiments preceding it. It’s a brilliant double image of the king’s actual invasion of the United States and an estranged lover sending armed troops to regain the affections of his beloved.

This chorus features the first of several confirmed Beatles references thrown in by orchestrator and musical director Alex Lacamoire. Here, the vibes quote Penny Lane, as demonstrated by Lacamoire in an interview with Vulture.

Nonsense refrains are also common in traditional English folk music. Like the monarchy itself, it goes back centuries.

A reaction to the Declaration of Independence.

To quote musical director Alex Lacamoire:

At “You say your love is draining and you can’t go on,” the synth goes, bah dunna-nah, dunna-nah, dunna-nah. The bass line is a total Paul-ism.

King George asserts that America will not be able to govern itself without the monarchy. Much like a toxic lover who is desperately clinging to a struggling relationship, George believes the colonists are dependent on Britain and would not be able to operate without him. This was one of Britain’s justifications for its taxing of America: that the colonists could not govern themselves and the taxes they paid were in a sense a fee for the law and order that the crown provided. Here, George believes that with the colonial relationship over, the colonists will be unable to function on their own and will yearn to be under British rule again. Kind of a “you never miss the water till the well runs dry” situation.

Playing on words here: “subject” as both “topic” and “one under authority.” And he’s so pleased with himself about it that he repeats it two more times.

The real King George III used the term “subject” many times in his Proclamation of Rebellion, which this song is based on, in response to the Battle of Bunker Hill in June of 1775.

“Sweet, submissive” works both in the stylized-breakup context, as an allusion to kink (as in a dom/sub relationship), and in the historical context, as the relationship between a monarch and his subjects who are legally obligated to submit to his royal will.

Amen? This is sung like it would be at a church service, but extremely overdone, like those four lines of ‘subject’ rhymes.

Actually, England’s monarch is also the Supreme Governor of the Church of England (yup, that’s a real and current title of QEII), so King George does have some religious authority to throw around here.

The King James Bible and the Book of Common Prayer for George’s own Church of England both translate this line of scripture and liturgy much more distinctively: “World without end.” And of course, there was a time when the sun never set on the British Empire

(And, as they still owe a number of tiny islands all around the globe, the sun has still never, technically, set on lands controlled by Britain. Forever indeed!)

The comma we’ve seen at every other “you’ll be back” falls away here—because he’s not saying that America will come back to him, but rather, that it’ll be “back like before,” i.e. reverted to its previous, colonial state, as if nothing had happened.

Talk about mad.

Real double meaning here. This song is structured as a love song, and in that context, the line could mean he’d be winning love from the colonists. But here, he continues with his theme of domination – he’s fighting the war against them, and he’ll win. In fact, he sings on, almost as an afterthought, “for your love.”

The lack of inventiveness in the line is also a continuation of King George III’s simplistic wording. He’s not a complicated guy… hardly revolutionary thoughts.

Love and praise are very different things; it appears initially as if George is looking specifically for the love of his American subjects, and might even (controversially) be willing to make concessions to them in order to get it. But the second half of this line reveals his true and darker goal-their praise of him. George is more interested in the material manifestation of love than the substance behind it. In addition to this, this line makes it sound like George is the one suffering to earn the colonies' love/praise, demonstrating the twisted/abusive nature of their metaphorically romantic relationship.

This again promotes the love-letter feel to he song.

But, more deeply, “‘till my dying days,” also references one of the many problems with the monarchy – that a King or Queen would rule them until his or her death.

“There are nerds who laugh when King George says, ‘When you’re gone, I’ll go mad,’ because they know King George went fucking mad!” —Miranda, for American Theatre

In the later part of his life, King George III did famously “go mad,” a period which has been dramatized in the play & movie, The Madness of King George (III). He is reported to have had episodes of despondency, convulsions, and incessant rambling. He would sometimes talk so much and for so long that he would foam at the mouth. He was removed from power in large part due to his erratic behavior, and his heir the Prince of Wales was established as the Prince Regent.

George III’s public succumbence to mental illness became linked with the mixed successes of his reign, and popular history branded him as “the mad King who lost America.”

Porphyria, a genetic illness that causes a buildup of chemicals in the blood, has been pointed to as the culprit for this mental deterioration. Other theories posit long-term arsenic exposure/poisoning (arsenic being a common additive in medicines, tonics, and even makeup and wig powder of the time), syphilis, bipolar disorder/manic depression, and the onset of dementia.
King George had bouts of mental instability in 1783, 1788, and 1804. In 1811 he lapsed into mental instability and didn’t recover. He spent the last decade of his life (he died in 1820) in the care of the mad-doctors. The Regency period (familiar to those with a taste for a certain kind of romance) was the era during which the Prince of Wales (future George IV) was ruling in his father’s stead, 1811-1820.

“Don’t throw away this thing we had” is also a reference to Hamilton’s repeated insistence he is not throwing away his shot – from the king’s perspective, the colonies ARE throwing away their shot by rebelling.

Not only were revolutionaries risking punishment simply by suggesting that King George III should not be king, but they were risking their families' livelihood as well. That’s because in England, Parliament was currently passing bills of attainder, bills that specifically singled out people for punishment for a high crime like treason without a trial. A bill of attainder could remove all titles and land from traitors, and prevent their families or descendants from getting them. Their families would then end up destitute at best. The concept is known as “corruption of blood.” Before the constitution was passed, colonial governments also tried to “corrupt the blood” of Tory families. But the practice was considered offensive enough that’s it’s specifically banned in the Constitution in Article III, Section 3, Clause 2.

This line breaks from both the melody, implying that George is breaking from his friendly-sounding song to make a real threat. Before, on “send a fully-armed battalion,” the melody remained intact and it felt like a false smile. By breaking from the established melody it feels like a break from that smile into something much worse.

The electric guitar in the orchestration here is lifted directly from the intro to The Beatles' “Getting Better,” a paragon of the 1960s British pop style that this song is emulating.

Evidence that this is intentional: Lin-Manuel Miranda faved this tweet.

“Everybody!” recalls the end of The Beatles‘ “All You Need Is Love.” However, here it reads a bit less 'peace and love,’ and a bit more…

(◡‿◡)✿—Come on, Ensemble, sing along!

(ʘ‿ʘ)✿—OR ELSE.

Upon King George’s “friendly” reminder, the ensemble visibly scrambles to get in line on stage and sing along.

King George has issued the directive to loyal subjects in the audience that, indeed, everybody is welcome to sing his royal praises – but audience participation is more voluntary than for subjects on stage.

Alex Lacamoire on this line:

And the way [Jonathan] Groff intones, “Everybody!” at the end is a little like Lennon in “All You Need Is Love.” That idea came up in the studio last minute.