A soldier deserved to die, and the verdict was pronounced that he should jump off a high and steep cliff. As he now comes to the place, he takes a few steps backwards and takes a good run-up so that he can jump even better. But just as he reaches the edge, and everybody's eyes look for him in the bottom, he suddenly stops. This happens three times. Finally, the present general got angry and asked: Why is he hesitating? Why does he take three attempts and always stop on the edge? The brave soldier was not lazy, but replied to the general with great steadfastness: Monsieur, (for he was a Frenchman) you think that it is such a small thing to jump off this rock! It is true, I have tried it three times and I could not do it. I will gladly give you a fourth attempt, if you jump instead of me. Everyone, including the general himself, was amazed at this free answer, and the fellow was given his life.

Now, some organists and their fellows may say: Dear God! Why is that written here? What comfort am I to draw from this story against the fear that this painful piece in C sharp brings to me? What explanation can the soldier give to me with his cheeky answer? Maybe, one compares this cheeky piece with it? No, my dear hero, it is not meant that way. I want to tell you how this story got here, what comfort you have to get from its application and what explanation you can get from it.

First of all, if the piece is to be played presto assai and cleanly, it is not of the kind that can be brought out perfectly at once. Such a jump takes more than one run-up. This way the story adds up. Secondly, it is of great comfort to you, who are being tested, if I do not only say to you, like the soldier to the general, "I will give four attempts", but, "I will give you six and even more attempts". See, that is the comfort you get from my little story. Third, if you are given time to play the piece four or six times, it necessarily follows that practicing it will give you a great explanation. And there you have my answer.

Now do your best and let us hear you. I do not ask that the right hand should do the slightest thing except a few thirds every now and then. There will be no time for it, if the Presto assai should be taken care of. But beware of octaves and wrong chords at the highest velocity; otherwise one will hear them soon, no matter how you rush over it. Someone might take it into his head to have you play him some measures, in particular the last six, quite slowly; then you could easily be put to shame. Now I do not see how to help you further and what else could also give you some guidance. This piece is so special that if I had not remembered this story, I could hardly have said a word to your advantage.

To the dear elderly who teach that the thorough-bass does not require such a velocity, that it is only stiff and does firm Spanish walks, I only want to leave the one thing and question for reflection: There are often words to sing that indicate a hurrying, a running, a great restlessness, volatility and so on, but the human voice cannot always be used as desired because one cannot sing as quickly as one can play. I wonder whether the bass is not authorized to express the affect and the meaning of the text?