I pray you all, If you have hitherto conceal’d this sight, Let it be tenable in your silence still; And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, Give it an understanding, but no tongue: I will requite your loves.
Hamlet return’d shall know you are come home: We’ll put on those shall praise your excellence And set a double varnish on the fame The Frenchman gave you; bring you in fine together And wager on your heads: he, being remiss, Most generous, and free from all contriving, Will not peruse the foils; so that with ease, Or with a little shuffling, you may choose A sword unbated, and, in a pass of practice, Requite him for your father.
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It’s a sad song about the heartbreak of unrequited love.