the sea. My breast, with what rapture it responds to the call
which has wakened it to new life, and entones the lovely canticle
of Love!"

He has hardly ceased, when Beckmesser thrusts apart the curtains.
"Have you finished? I have quite finished with the blackboard!" He
holds up for inspection the blackboard, overscored on both sides
with great chalk-marks. The masters break into laughter. "Have the
goodness to listen," demands Walther imperiously; "I have only
just reached the point where my song is to publish my lady's
praise!"--"Go and sing wherever else you please. Here you have
failed." Beckmesser descends from his post, flourishing the blackboard.
"I beg you will examine, masters, this blackboard. Never since I
live has such a thing been heard of. I should not have believed
it though you had all affirmed it under oath...." Walther, in the
innocence of his youth, loudly appeals: "Do you intend to allow
him, masters, to interrupt me like this? Am I not from any one of
you to have a hearing?" Pogner's courtesy interferes: "One word,
friend Marker, are you not out of temper?" Beckmesser excitedly
proceeds to justify his chalk-marks. No beginning or end, defective
metre, defective construction! Blind meaning! Not one proper
breathing-space anywhere! No appropriate colouring--and of melody
not a vestige! Then, what a mad medley of "modes"! A mixture of
adventure-tone, blue-knightly-spurs tone, tall-pine-trees tone
and haughty-stripling tone! (Which permits the supposition that
David, though moved by the desire to amaze, was yet a faithful
reporter of the refinements of master-singing.) The master-singers
agree readily with Beckmesser, are really relieved to find their
impressions boldly put into form for them by him. Not one of them
has understood anything. Walther's unprecedented leaping to his
feet in the heat of inspiration has given offence to this one;
the other terms his singing "empty battering at the ear-drums."
They are about to subscribe unanimously to Beckmesser's verdict
that he has lost his case, when Sachs's voice breaks in upon the
confusion. He has listened to Walther in complete self-forgetful
absorption. The absence of all jealousy in his large nature leaves
his mind peculiarly open for genuine first-hand impressions; his
wide understanding is not repelled by the new and strange. The close
of the young man's song has found him won, enlisted, prepossessed.
He calls the masters to halt. "Not every one