Sonata For Violin No. 1 In G Minor, Bwv 1001: Iv. Presto

The Queen stands here beside us deep in thought,
The maidservants wither away like mown grass:
I think that I, as the eldest, am bound, in sacred duty,
To barter words with you, the eldest of all by far.
You're wise, experienced, and seem well-disposed,
And though this foolish crowd baited you in error,
Speak of a way to escape this fate, if you know it.

That's easily done: it depends on the Queen alone,
To save herself, and you her followers with her.
But decision is required, and of the swiftest.