, after all, men of honour. They were
hard on thee yesterday, but thou hast troubled them much. Thy song was
as strange, its kind as new to them as it was beautiful, and they have
thought of it again and again since then. If they can make themselves
familiar with such beauty they will not fail to give thee credit. I
own I am much troubled and know not what to do for you."

"I wonder could it be possible that I have had an inspiration in my
sleep that might lead me to win my dear Eva?" the knight said, taking
heart.

"That we shall soon know. Sir Walther, stand thou there, and sing thy
song, and I will sit here and write it down. So it shall not escape
thee. Come, begin, Sir Knight," Sachs cried, becoming hopeful for the
young man. Trembling with anxiety Walther took his stand and began his
song, while Hans placed himself at the table to write it down.

[Music:

Bathed in the sunlight at dawn of the day,
when blossoms rare
made sweet the air,
with beauties teeming,
past all dreaming,
a glorious garden lay, cheering my way.]

As the knight sang he became more and more inspired and when he had
finished Hans Sachs was wild with delight.

"It is true!--you have had a wonderful inspiration. Go now to your
room, and there you will find clothing gay enough for this great
occasion. No matter how it came there!--it is there! I have all along
believed in you, and that you would sing, and I have provided for it."
The knight went rejoicing to put on his new clothes.

Now Hans, when he went with Walther to his bedroom, had left the
manuscript of the great song upon the table, and no sooner had he gone
out than Beckmesser, looking through the window and finding the place
empty, slipped in. He was limping from the effects of the fight and
altogether cut a most ridiculous figure. He was very richly dressed,
but that did not conceal his battered appearance. Every step he took
he rubbed first his back and then his shins. He should have been in
bed and covered with liniments. Suddenly he espied the song upon
Hans's table. He believed that after all Hans was going to sing, and
if he should, all would be up with himself. Wild with rage, Beckmesser
picked up the song and stuffed it into his pocket. No sooner had he
done so than the bedroom door opened, and Hans Sachs came out in gala
dress, ready for the festival; seeing Beckmesser, he paused in
surprise.

"What, you? Sir Marker? Surely those shoes o