ond verse, the masters inquire of one another,
"What does it mean? Has he gone mad? His song is one piece of nonsense!"
while the people giggle louder and make remarks less and less
respectful.

At the end of the third verse, populace and masters burst into
peals of laughter. Beckmesser descends from his pedestal and hurls
himself raging at Sachs. "Accursed cobbler! To you I owe this!--The
song is none of mine," he excitedly informs the rest. "Sachs here,
whom you honour so, your Sachs gave me the song. The scandalous
wretch compelled me to sing it, he foisted off his miserable song
on me!" He dashes the sorry-looking manuscript at Sachs's feet,
and rushes off like one pursued by a nest of hornets.

Amazement reigns among master-singers and people: "A song of Sachs's?
The matter grows more and more astonishing! The song is yours? Be
so good, Sachs, as to explain!" Sachs has picked up and smoothed
out the crumpled page. "The song, as a matter of truth, is not
of my composing. Herr Beckmesser is mistaken, in this respect as
in others. How he obtained it let him tell you himself. But never
should I be audacious to the point of boasting that so fine a song
had been written by me, Hans Sachs."--"What?... Fine?... That crazy
rubbish? Sachs is joking! He says that in fun!"--"I declare to
you, gentlemen, that the song is beautiful. But it is obvious at
a single glance that Master Beckmesser misrepresents it. I swear
to you, however, that you would hear it with delight were one to
sing it in this circle correctly as to word and melody. And one
who should be able to do this would by that fact sufficiently prove
that he is the author of the song, and that in all justice, if
he found just judges, he would be called a master. I have been
accused and must defend myself. Let me therefore summon a witness.
If any one is present who knows that right is on my side, let him
come forward as a witness before this assembly."

Quietly and quickly, with his proudly-borne head and his light
proud step, Walther advances. A murmur of pleasure runs through
the assembly at sight of him, in his resplendent clothes and plumed
hat. The good populace on whom Sachs had counted do not disappoint
him: the gallant young figure finds instantaneous favour. "A proper
witness, handsome and spirited," they comment, "from whom something
proper may be expected!" The master-singers are not slow to recognise
the intruder of yesterday, and to grasp the situation