ver, we are gradually prepared for the ridiculous and
preposterous again. Beckmesser is to make his bid for Eva's hand with
what he supposes to be a song by Sachs; and to an accompaniment of
music which, lively and graceful enough, is purposely of no very
distinctive character. The preparations are made. By the time he
mounts the heap of turf to address his audience we are ready for him.
Of course he makes a fine ass of himself. He has not had time to
memorise the poem of the song, and with extravagant fun Wagner makes
him change the poetical and serious words into words of most ludicrous
significance. Walther's melody he has not got hold of at all, and in a
state of intense nervousness tries to fit the words to the burlesque
tune of his previous night's serenade. The accents all fall in the
wrong place; and as he stumbles miserably along the crowd begins to
titter. Wagner of course was parodying and satirising the pedants of
his own day, especially the composers of psalms who could not set a
straightforward Bible sentence without making nonsense of it. Readers
acquainted with the ordinary musical setting of a portion of the
Church of England service, or the average organist's anthem, will know
what I mean: the average organist seems to consider it a point of
artistry, if not indeed of honour, to accentuate the words so as to
leave the meaning as little intelligible as possible; and in many
cases--I have some before me now--he contrives to make them
nonsensical. It was this sort of thing, perpetrated by the very men
who denied him any musical gift, that Wagner held up to derision in
Beckmesser's song. The tittering swells into a roar, and at last
Beckmesser, cursing Sachs for a deceiver and false friend, flies. With
that, fooling ends. To music of a rare sweet gravity Sachs invites the
"volk" to hearken to the song when given by the man who composed it.
Walther steps up and sings; as he goes on the people again make
themselves heard, but to praise, not to deride; towards the finish
their voices form a choral accompaniment, and we have the counterpart
to the finale of the first act. Walther wins the day and Eva; and,
slightly against his will, he is made a Master. There is an address
from Sachs, in which he exhorts Walther and all present not to despise
art, but to honour it as being (for this is what his speech amounts
to) the heart's blood of national life. Preachments are not usually
stimulating, but this one is mercif