ne, unsentimental voice he replies promptly: "My child, he
would be too old for you!"--"What do you mean, too old? The question
here is one of art. The man who has achieved distinction in art,
let him contend for me." Sachs smiles, indulgently, paternally.
"Dear little Eva, are you making a fool of me?" (_Machst mir blauen
Dunst?_ Are you blinding me with blue haze?)--"Not I! It is you--"
she retorts warmly, "it is you who are playing tricks on me. Confess
that you are of an inconstant nature. God knows who it is you have
now housed in your heart. And I have been supposing for years it
was I!"--"Because I used to be fond of carrying you in my arms?"--"I
see! It was only because you had no children of your own!"--"Time was
when I had a wife and children enough," Sachs reminds her gently.
"But your wife died, and I grew up!"--"And you grew up, tall and
most fair!"--"And so I thought you would take me into your house
in place of wife and child...."--"Thus I should have a child and a
wife in one ... A pleasant pastime, indeed! Ha ha! How beautifully
you have planned it all!"--"I believe," she pouts, and bends her
brows on him in a puzzled frown, "I believe that the master is
making fun of me! In the end he will calmly acquiesce in Beckmesser
to-morrow carrying me off, right under his nose, from him and all the
rest!"--"How could I prevent it," says Sachs, not upset apparently
by the fearful thought, "if he is successful? Your father alone
could find a remedy to that."--"Where such a master carries his
head!" cries Eva, in acute exasperation, "If I were to come to
your house, should I so much as be made at home?" Somewhat dryly
he takes up her words, as before, to steer the conversation from
these dubious borders; and by some hazard, or intuition, turns it
upon the subject nearest her heart. "Ah, yes, you are right! My
head is in a state of confusion. I have had much care and bother
to-day. Something of it clings very probably to my wits."--"At the
singing-school, do you mean?" she asks, with covert eagerness;
"There was song-trial to-day."--"Yes, child, I had considerable
trouble over an election." She draws close to him. "Now, Sachs!
You should have said so at once, and I would not have harassed
you with senseless questions. Tell me now who it was that sought
for election?"--"A knight, my child, wofully untaught!"--"A knight?
You do not say so! And was he admitted?"--"Far from it, my dear.
There was too much difference of