ognises his sweetheart Magdalena at Eva's window. He scents a
rival in Beckmesser, and begins lustily to cudgel the unfortunate
musician. Soon the street fills with townsfolk and apprentices, all
crying and shouting together. Eva and Walther, under cover of the
uproar, are making their escape, when Sachs, who has been on the watch,
steps out and stops them. He bids Eva go home, and takes Walther with
him into the house. Suddenly the watchman's horn is heard in the
distance. Every one rushes off, and the street is left to the quiet
moonlight and the quaint old watchman, who paces up the street solemnly
proclaiming the eleventh hour.

In the third act we find Sachs alone in his room, reading an ancient
tome, and brooding over the follies of mankind. David interrupts him
with congratulations on his birthday, and sings a choral in his honour.
Walther now appears, full of a wonderful dream he has had. Sachs makes
him sing it, and writes down the words on a piece of paper. After they
have gone out, Beckmesser creeps in, very lame and sore after his
cudgelling. He finds the paper and appropriates it. Sachs comes in and
discovers the theft, but tells Beckmesser he may keep the poem. The
latter is overjoyed at getting hold of a new song, as he supposes, by
Sachs, and hurries off to learn it in time for the contest. Eva now
comes in under the pretence of something being amiss with one of her
shoes, and, while Sachs is setting it right, Walther sings her the last
verse of his dream-song. The scene culminates in an exquisite quintet in
which David and Magdalena join, after which they all go off to the
festivities in a meadow outside the town. There, after much dancing and
merry-making, the singing contest comes off. Beckmesser tries to sing
Walther's words to the melody of his own serenade, the result being
such indescribable balderdash that the assembled populace hoots him
down, and he rushes off in confusion, Walther's turn then comes, and he
sings his song with such success that the prize is awarded to him with
acclamation. He wins his bride, but he will have nothing to say to the
Mastersingers and their pedantry, until Hans Sachs has shown him that in
them lies the future of German art.

Although it contains comic and even farcical scenes, 'Die Meistersinger'
is in fact not so much a comedy as a satire, with a vein of wise and
tender sentiment running through it. It has also to a certain extent the
interest of autobiography. I