Richard Wagner
The Master Singers of Nuremberg
Act III
‘Old Nuremberg, a View of the Synagogue from the Pegnitz River’
August Fischer (Danish, 1854–1921)
Artvee
Translated by Abigail Dyer © Copyright 2019 All Rights Reserved.
This work may be freely reproduced, stored and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose. Conditions and Exceptions apply.
Please direct enquiries for commercial re-use to dyerabigail@gmail.com.
Contents
Act III, Scene 1
Sachs's workshop foreground. In the background, a half-open shop door that leads to the street. Stage Left, a door to an interior room. Right, the window with flower pots in front of it that overlooks the alley. Next to that, the work table. Sachs sits in a large armchair at this window, through which bright morning light is shining. He is completely absorbed in reading the large folio on his lap.
David peeks in the door from the street and draws back when he sees Sachs. Then, reassured that Sachs hasn't seen him, he creeps into the workshop, places the basket he brought with him on the work table and examines its contents. He takes flowers and ribbons out of it, roots around and finally finds at the bottom a sausage and a cake. He's about to devour these when he hears Sachs, who still has not noticed him, loudly turn a page.
DAVID (startled, hides the food, turns back)
Here, Master! Yes!
The shoes have been delivered
To Herr Beckmesser's address.
(aside)
I thought that he called me hither?
Now he pretends I'm not here?
That means he's mad at me, I fear!
(very humbly, slowly approaches Sachs)
Ah, Master, won't you forgive?
What apprentice is without sin?
If you knew my Lene, I'm sure
That you would forgive me, and more!
She is so good, so kind to me,
She gazes at me so tenderly.
You box my ears, she strokes my head
And smiles at me sweetly instead.
When I go hungry she brings me meals.
With them she shows me the love she feels.
Last evening when the knight lost his chances,
Lene refused to give me her basket.
That hurt me so! And then I found,
There under her window hanging 'round,
A swain who sang and screamed like mad!
I beat the man! I thrashed him bad!
Does this deserve a punishment harsh
When it brought me closer to Lene's heart?
For Lene just explained the whole thing to me
And brought ribbons and brought flowers for the feast.
(seized by fear)
Ah, Master! Say one little word!
(aside)
(If only I'd finished the sausages first!)
(Sachs has gone on reading undisturbed. Now he slams the folio closed. David is so shaken by the noise that he unintentionally falls to his knees in front of Sachs. Sachs gazes past David, who looks up at him in terror, into the distance and slowly turns his gaze to the work table.)
SACHS (very quietly)
Flowers and ribbons I observe,
So fair and youthful they seem.
But why are they here with me?
DAVID (astonished at Sachs's friendliness)
Well, Master, it's a festival day.
We deck ourselves out in ribbons gay.
SACHS It's a wedding feast?
DAVID Sure, if it is time
For me to make Lene mine!
SACHS The bachelor party was last night?
DAVID (to himself)
Bachelor party? He must mean the fight!
(to Sachs)
Forgive me, Master! Forget it, please!
Today, after all, is Saint John's feast!
SACHS It's Saint John's feast?
DAVID (aside)
Is he deaf now?
(David has gradually risen from kneeling)
SACHS Know you your verses? Say them aloud!
DAVID My verses? Yes, through and through.
(aside)
What's this? The master in spirits good?
(loudly and roughly, to the tune of Beckmesser's serenade)
"On Jordan's bank Saint John did stand--"
SACHS Wha-- What?
DAVID (laughing)
Excuse the mistake.
From last night's adventure my head aches.
(collects himself and begins properly)
"On Jordan's bank Saint John did stand
To baptise all and sundry.
He spied a girl from far-off lands:
From Nuremberg she had come in.
To Jordan's bank she brought her babe
To christen and be baptised.
But once she got back home again
To Nuremberg, she realised:
In German lands, she soon caught on,
The child baptised in the Jordan
Who there was christened John
Here in Nuremberg is called Hans."
(realising, then ardently)
Hans? Hans! Herr Master! Today's your saint name day!
No! How'd I forget? What can I say?
Here! Here, the flowers are for you.
The ribbons and goodies, please take them, too.
Right here, look, Master, cake sweetly frosted!
Would Master not like to try the sausage?
SACHS (calm throughout, his posture unchanging)
No thanks, my boy. They're all for you.
Instead, to the meadow come with me at noon.
With flowers and ribbons dress up fine
As the stately young herald mine!
DAVID Could I not instead escort the bride?
Master, ah, Master, go wooing! It's time.
SACHS So you wish for a mistress to serve?
DAVID I think the house would seem far statelier.
SACHS Who knows. But time will tell.
DAVID It's time.
SACHS Then time must have advised you well?
DAVID Just so! Rumours of it have been flying.
Herr Beckmesser you'd outsing without trying.
I think that he won't put on airs today.
SACHS That's likely. Yes, I had thought the same.
Go now and try not to wake the knight.
Come back here when you're dressed up right!
DAVID (touched, kisses Sachs's hand)
He's never like this, thought he is kind!
(I can hardly remember now his strap on my hide!)
(Gathers his things and exits into the chamber. Sachs, folio still on his lap, leans back deep in thought, resting his head on his hand. It seems the conversation with David has not stirred him from his revery.)
SACHS Mad, mad, everyone's mad!
Where e'er I curiously
Research in history
I can no cause discover
Why people to the death
Fight with and torment each other.
What crazy uselessness!
It profits none.
It helps no one.
They madly run to
Hunt and be hunted,
Each deaf to his own cries of pain,
Wounding himself time and again,
Believing he feels pleasure!
Who knows the name for this?
It's madness, nothing less.
Without it, nothing happens,
Moves forwards or slips backwards!
If it should rest,
In sleep it finds its strength refreshed.
It wakes again
And then
What man can master it?
How peaceful and old-fashioned,
Content in chore and work,
The heart of old Germania,
Is dear old Nuremberg!
(he looks around himself with happy enthusiasm)
But then one evening late,
To stop a tragic blunder
By young and passionate lovers,
What move could one man make?
While working, a simple cobbler
The thread of madness toggled
And soon the streets were all clogged up
With people getting clobbered!
Man, woman, even child
Fought one and all with fury wild.
When madness wins a vict'ry
Then blows must rain down thickly
With beatings, cuts and thrashes
Till rage has burned to ashes.
God knows how this occurred.
Did goblins do the work?
A lightening bug had lost his wife--
That must be what set off the fight.
The lilac 'twas on Saint John's eve!
But now we've come to Saint John's feast!
So let's see what Hans Sachs will do
To make the madness dance his tune
And do a nobler deed,
So it will let us be.
Right here in Nuremberg
Let madness do the work
That's only be done by means uncommon
And must be by means mad accomplished.
Act III, Scene 2
Walther enters through the chamber door. He remains there for a moment and looks at Sachs, who has let the folio slip to the floor.
SACHS Good sir, good morning!
How was your rest?
Up late last night? Enough you've slept?
WALTHER (very calm)
Too little, but my rest was deep.
SACHS So is your mood bright as can be?
WALTHER (still very calm)
I had an exquisite dream last night.
SACHS An omen good. Say how it went!
WALTHER What if it fades out when I try?
I hardly dare to conjure it.
SACHS My friend! But it's a poet's work
To note his dreams and them observe.
You see, men's truths most mad, most clear,
Their dreams alone to them reveal.
All verses and all poetry
Are nought but dream interpreting.
I bet your dream explained the way
To win your Mastership today.
WALTHER (very calm)
No. 'Twas not guilds nor Masters either
That last night's dream in me inspired.
SACHS It gave you magic words to say
To win the girl in contest?
WALTHER (more actively)
How could you think, after I failed,
There's hope of that? Be honest!
SACHS I will not stop myself from hoping.
My hope was never at issue.
Had it been, I'd not have stopped your elopement
But instead would have run off with you!
I beg you, let your grievance go!
You deal with men of honour, you know.
Mistakes they make, and ask but for
All men to take them just as they are.
Who donates and who awards a prize
Expects to give it to someone he likes.
Your song made them all uncomfortable,
And rightly were these men appalled:
A song of such poetic ardour
Portends the seduction of those men's daughters.
Now, for wedded bliss and love that's true
Much different words and notes are used.
WALTHER (smiling)
I learned those words, too, just last night.
Out in the alley they caused quite a fight.
SACHS (laughing)
Ha ha! Well said! Their funny beat
You heard as well! But that can wait.
Instead take my counsel, and that goes:
Take heart and a Master song compose!
WALTHER A lovely song, a Master tune,
What difference is there twixt the two?
SACHS (tender)
My friend, in happy, youthful hours
When driven by our passions,
When love is all that matters,
And young men's breasts swell high and proud,
Young men will be successful
At singing lovely songs well,
For spring has sung for them.
Come summer, fall and wintertime
With worry, care and sadness,
Along with wedded gladness,
Children and business, bitter fights,
He who can then be successful
At singing lovely songs well,
A Master is that man!
WALTHER (tenderly and eagerly rising)
I love a girl and I desire
To take her ever as my wife.
SACHS The Master song rules are designed to
Ever so faithfully help guide you.
They'll help you guard and shelter
All that your youthful breast held.
What passion-driven
Love and springtime
Silently in your heart have placed,
Will be yours to keep for aye!
WALTHER Why have the rules such high prestige?
Who was it who invented these?
SACHS It was some poor, tormented Masters
Who were oppressed by life's disasters.
They found in suffering, wisdom
And they called forth a vision
From what was left of
Their joyful, young love.
Through memory so clear and strong,
They kept the springtime in their song.
WALTHER But he whom spring long since abandoned,
How does he this vision imagine?
SACHS By brushing up as best he can,
As, too, must I, a poor old man.
You wish to learn what the rules are?
Make up your own in a new song!
Look, here's the ink pot, paper and quill.
I shall record. Dictate at will!
WALTHER I would not know where to begin.
SACHS Just tell me of your morning dream.
WALTHER Amid your master class I fear
My dream has all but disappeared.
SACHS So take your poet's art in hand.
Through it may lost things be found again.
WALTHER 'Twas not a dream, 'twas poetry?
SACHS They're friends, those two, inseparably.
WALTHER How should I by the rules begin?
SACHS Invent your own and follow them.
Just be your lovely dream aware of
And all else will Hans Sachs take care of.
(Walther positions himself near Sachs's work table, where Sachs writes down what he sings)
WALTHER "Morning light glowed with a rosy pink gleam
And blossoms fair
Perfumed the air.
There, full of wonders
Undiscovered,
A garden beckoned me
Its guest to be."
SACHS That was a "stanza." Now do your best
To make one just like it follow next.
WALTHER Why just alike?
SACHS To dramatize two peas in a pod, like man and wife.
WALTHER "Gracefully towering over the green,
Its golden fruit
With healing juice,
On branches blazed with
Bright temptation,
A gently perfumed tree
Offered to me."
SACHS You ended on a different pitch.
That would the Masters vex.
E'en so, Hans Sachs will learn from this.
In spring, that ending is best.
Now sing for me an "after song!"
WALTHER And what is that?
SACHS If you're not wrong
And you have married wisely,
That shows up in your child.
Resembling verses, yet its own,
With its own rhymes and its own tones,
A well-formed, self-sufficient thing,
Of parents proud it's their offspring.
It closes your two verses out
So no loose ends will hang about.
WALTHER "So I'll confide the miracle that came to me:
Beside me stood a lovely girl
Whose beauty ne'er the like I'd seen.
Just like a bride
She rested her soft hand on mine.
Her bright eyes flashing,
Her hand then grasped it,
The thing I'd wanted so long,
The golden fruit that's from
The Tree of Life."
SACHS Now that's what I call an after-song!
That is the way to finish strong,
Though with the melody
You were a little free.
But I won't say that should an error be.
It's only hard to remember.
That will rile our guild members.
And now for me create a second part
So as to set your first one apart.
I still can't tell from your expert rhyme scheme
Which parts you made up and which you dreamed.
WALTHER "Evening light glowed with a heavenly shine.
Day drifted out
As I lay down.
Then a desire
To drink nectar delightful
From her eyes
Made me arise.
Nighttime's dark blanket diminished my sight.
So far yet near
I saw them clear:
Two stars were shimmering
In the distance.
Thought branches slim, their light
Fell on my eyes.
Gently, a stream on distant heights whispered to me.
And as it rose,
So sweet a note
As I'd ne'er heard came through the trees.
Vivid stars gleamed.
How brightly the starlight there shone!
In stellar dances
They flocked to branches,
The golden, shimmering throng.
Not fruit, but stars shone on
The laurel tree."
SACHS (very touched)
Friend, last night's dream has spoken true.
Your second part has succeeded, too.
Should you venture a third part to proffer,
Your dream's true meaning that part would offer.
WALTHER (stands quickly)
I'd find that where?
Enough of words!
SACHS (also stands quickly and walks to Walther with friendly determination)
Then, deed and rhyme at the right time!
I beg you, memorize the music.
It's well matched to the poetry.
When you sing it before the public
Hold tightly on to your vision, please.
WALTHER What do you plan?
SACHS Your servant true
Has brought your trunks and bags to you.
The clothes that for your wedding feast
Back home you'd have impressed in,
He brought me here for you to dress in.
A little bird showed him the nest
Wherein his master dreamed.
So join me in my chamber there.
Put on your splendid things.
Now we both our very best must wear
If we're to venture and to gain.
Come with me if you want the same.
(Walther shakes Sachs's hand and Sachs leads him with firm, calm steps to the chamber. He opens the door for Walther and follows him into the room.
Beckmesser appears outside the shop and in a state of great agitation peeks inside. Finding the workshop empty, he enters it quickly.)
Act III, Scene 3
Beckmesser is all dressed up but in pitiable condition. He looks through the doors again and around the workshop. Then he limps downstage, cringes and rubs his back. He takes a few more steps, bends his knees and rubs them. He sits on the shoemaking stool but jumps up again in pain. He looks at the shoe last, a still painful memory. He suffers morosely through his memories and imaginings. His anxiety increasing, he wipes sweat from his brow. He limps around ever more actively until he stops, startled. As if he were being chased from all sides, he stumbles all around. As if to keep himself from sinking, he holds onto the worktable and stares. Faint and in despair he looks around. His eye finally falls on Pogner's house, visible through the window. As if being attacked by Sir Walther, Beckmesser tries to stab his imaginary foe in the chest. Angry thoughts arise throughout, which he attempts to fight off with self-pity. He's overcome by jealousy. He hits himself on the head. He believes he hears women and children mocking him from the alley, turns angrily and slams the window shut. Very discombobulated, he turns mechanically to the work table, while he broodingly seems to be looking for a new melody. His eye falls on the paper with Sachs's writing. He takes it up curiously, looks it over with growing turmoil and then erupts in fury.
BECKMESSER A wooing song by Sachs I see?
Ha! Now it is clear to me!
(He hears the chamber door open and hurriedly stuffs the paper into his pocket. Sachs enters in festive garb and observes Beckmesser.)
SACHS Town Clerk!
Good morning! Back so early?
But surely your shoes are not still hurting!
BECKMESSER Damnation! With such thin soles I've ne'er been shod.
Each pebble I feel through these shoes!
SACHS I stretched them to my scoring tune.
My scoring hammer made them so soft.
BECKMESSER Enough of jokes! You can drop this ruse!
I see, Friend Sachs, your subterfuge!
Last night's amusing game
Could blacken your good name.
Just so I out of your way would be
You caused a riot and mutiny!
SACHS A bachelor party, and without equal!
Your proposal frightened a lot of people.
The rowdier the party is,
The greater your wedded bliss.
BECKMESSER (angry)
Shoemaker full of mischief,
You low-down dirty trickster!
My foe you've always been!
How clearly this I've seen.
The one whom I selected
Was born for me to wed her.
To every widower's shame,
You tried the maid to claim.
So Herr Hans Sachs could romance
The goldsmith's rich inheritance
He in the Masters' hall
Insisted on a clause,
A young girl just to mix-up
With woes just he could fix up:
She'd scorn all other men
And turn only to him.
That's why! That's why!
So dumb was I?
With hammering and loud shouts
He schemed to drown my song out
So that the girl won't know
That she has another beau.
Just so! Ho ho!
Was that your goal?
And from his little shoe shop
He sent his little brute squad
Well armed with clubs and fists
So of me he'd be rid!
Ooh, ooh! Ooh, ooh!
So black and blue,
And shamed before the maiden, too!
So clobbered and so pummelled
That back home I barely stumbled!
Scarcely still breathing
I had to flee them!
Yes, I made a getaway
But you I shall repay.
Today when I get rolling,
Ask for whom bells are tolling!
I'm badly bruised
And not amused.
You I will make sing another tune.
SACHS Good friend, you are in quite a state!
Of me believe just what you may.
All of your jealousy aside,
To woo I have no plan in mind.
BECKMESSER Brazen lie!
But I know better!
SACHS What do you assume, Master Beckmesser?
What I have in mind's not your concern
But know, about wooing you've got it wrong.
BECKMESSER This morning's meet?
SACHS I won't enter.
BECKMESSER No wooing song?
SACHS No, not today!
BECKMESSER But what if I've proof that you intend to?
SACHS (looks at the work table)
Where's the poem? Could you have tucked it away?
BECKMESSER (producing the page)
Would this be your hand?
SACHS Yes. Is that it?
BECKMESSER The writing still fresh?
SACHS And still wet is the ink?
BECKMESSER Is this, then, a biblical song?
SACHS Who thought it was would be quite wrong.
BECKMESSER So then?
SACHS So what?
BECKMESSER You ask?
SACHS I must.
BECKMESSER So you're, if I may frankly speak,
A miscreant, a scoundrel, a cheat.
SACHS Maybe, but I've never pocketed
Things found on other people's desks.
And just so no one will think of you worse,
You may keep the page. I gift you the verse.
BECKMESSER (jumping up in joyful shock)
Good God! Keep the verse? Keep a verse by Sachs?
But wait. There could be some more sneak attacks!
You've memorized very well the verse?
SACHS On that account please be undeterred!
BECKMESSER You'll give me the page?
SACHS So you're not a thief.
BECKMESSER And it I may use?
SACHS Just as you please.
BECKMESSER May I sing the song?
SACHS Yes, if you can.
BECKMESSER If I please the crowd?
SACHS Astonished I'd be then.
BECKMESSER (very friendly)
Again you are being far too modest.
(almost whistling)
A song by Sachs will be nearly flawless!
Just look at the state I'm in:
A poor and wretched thing
With memories so painful
Of last night's serenade,
Thanks to your merry caper
That sent Pogner's daughter away.
And how am I now to dream up
A new song on a dime?
How could I, all bruised and all beat up,
The wherewithal for that find?
Wooing and also wedlock,
That holy gift from God,
I will be forced to give up
Without a brand new song.
A song by you, with it I've no doubt
I'd crush all obstacles in a rout.
If I may really have it,
Let's bury the hatchet,
Forget discord and strife
And all that us divides!
(gives the page a sidelong glance then suddenly furrows his brow)
And yet! This could be a trap he's set!
Last evening you were my foe.
Why would, after you caused such offense,
You friendship now to me show?
SACHS I stayed up late to mend your shoes.
Is that something that a foe would do?
BECKMESSER Quite right! Just so! But one thing swear:
If by chance you the song should hear,
This one thing you never will do:
That's say that the song was composed by you.
SACHS I swear it and I ne'er will boast
Or speak of this as a song that I wrote.
BECKMESSER (jovially rubbing his hands together)
I'd ask no more! I've found salvation!
Thusly end Beckmesser's woe and vexation.
SACHS But, friend, you should proceed with caution.
Take my advice and practice often.
Please study well the song;
It's not an easy one.
Make sure the tone is not wrong,
The melody's well done.
BECKMESSER Friend Sachs, I find your poems good enough
But where notes and tones are concerned, 'fess up,
I'm second to no one.
You'll hear them, when I'm done,
Cry, "Beckmesser!
No one better!"
Of that, friend, rest assured,
If you let me sing undisturbed.
To memorize quick,
I'll hurry home.
Though time runs out swift,
I'll get the job done.
Hans Sachs, my dear friend,
Misjudge you I did.
By that rogue patrician
I was misled:
(speaking very confidentially)
His kind's the last thing we need!
Well of him we Masters are free!
All common sense has
Run off and left me!
Am I so dazed?
I feel half crazed.
The meter, the rhyme schemes,
The words and the stanzas!
I'm frozen here, it seems,
Though run off I'd planned to.
Ta-ta and ciao ciao!
I'll tell you how
I'll thank you gratefully
For all you did for me:
My vote you shall receive.
I shall buy goods from you
And make you scorer, too!
Score soft with chalk, though, do,
Instead of banging through!
Scorer! Scorer! Scorer Hans Sachs!
May Nuremberg's footwear e'er thrive and wax!
(Dancing, he takes his leave of Sachs, blusters and stumbles to the shop door. Suddenly thinks he forgot to put the poem in his pocket and runs anxiously back to the work table, where he finds the poem already in his hand. Jovially pleased, he embraces Sachs with fervent gratitude and tumbles, limping and floundering, out the shop door. Sachs watches Beckmesser thoughtfully, smiling to himself.)
SACHS One so wicked I never have met.
Forever he cannot hold out.
So many squander their brains and wits,
Keep just enough to keep house.
The hour of reckoning comes to each one.
He'll look so dumb he'll have to see reason.
That our Herr Beckmesser is a thief
Only will help my plan succeed.
(Eva approaches the shop door from the street; Sachs turns to Eva.)
It's Evchen! Where, I thought, could she be!
Act III, Scene 4
Eva, richly dressed in a stunning white gown and looking somewhat distressed and pale, enters the shop and walks slowly inside.
SACHS Hello, dear Evchen! My, how noble
And fine you look today!
At you the old and young will marvel.
You'll take their breath away.
EVA Master, I doubt that's a danger.
But since the tailor is smart
None can see that it's so painful
Here, where my shoe still hurts.
SACHS The wicked shoe! But I must say,
You did choose not to try it on.
EVA Just so. You see, I placed my faith
In Masters, and in that I was wrong.
SACHS Apologies! Let's see, my dear,
If I can make a quick repair.
EVA I try to walk, it slips right off.
I stand my ground, it slides around.
SACHS Here on my stool set your foot.
The trouble in its place I'll put.
(she sets her foot on the stool at the work table)
Tell me what's wrong.
EVA You see? Too wide!
SACHS Child, that's but vanity and pride.
The shoe is tight.
EVA I told you so!
It pinches me on my little toe.
SACHS Here, left?
EVA No, right.
SACHS More at the arch?
EVA The heel piece, more like.
SACHS That also smarts?
EVA Ah, Master, you should know better than I
Where my shoes still pinch.
SACHS Well, I'm surprised
That they're too wide
And yet pinch everywhere!
(Walther in splendid knightly garb enters from the chamber door)
EVA (lets out a cry and fixes her eyes on Walther without moving from her spot, foot still on the stool)
Ah!
SACHS Aha! I see. All the trouble was there.
Child, you were right. I'll fix the stitch.
(Sachs, who's bent over in front of her, remains with his back to the door without having seen Walther's entrance. Walther, spellbound by Eva's gaze, stays similarly fixed in place at the door.)
Just wait here. The trouble I'll soon fix.
You can stay put. I'll take off your shoe
To stretch on the shoe last. I'll bring it back soon.
(Sachs has gently taken the shoe off Eva's foot. She remains in the same spot as he goes to the work table and busies himself with the shoe, seemingly oblivious to everything else.)
Shoes and shoeing, that's my lot in life.
It's all I do all day and all night.
Child, I say, I've given it some thought.
I'll bring my shoeing days to a halt.
The best thing would be to woo you and wed.
As a poet, then, how my renown would spread!
Not listening, eh? What have I said?
'Twas you who put the plan in my head.
Alright. I see. "Just make your shoes!"
Sing me at least a nice song as I do!
Today I heard a lovely song.
But who will it a third verse now add on?
WALTHER"Did the stars linger and dance with delight?
So clean they shone!
Upon the crown
Of waving hair of
The woman fairest,
They laid of soft starlight
A garland bright."
SACHS (still working)
Hear, child. That is a Master song.
WALTHER "Wonder of wonders, appeared then a sight
Like day two-fold
I did behold,
Like two suns smiling,
Most beguiling,
The loveliest pair of eyes
I ever spied.
SACHS (aside to Eva)
Like these are the songs I'll be singing.
WALTHER Image of grace,
To dare approach it I presumed.
Th' garland that o'er the two suns shone,
(Sachs has brought the shoe back, ready to slip it onto Eva's foot again)
At once both pallid and in bloom,
Gently she placed
And wound it 'round the head of the groom!
Of grace created,
For fame now fated,
She paradisiacal bliss
Poured in the poet's breast,
In love's true dream."
SACHS Let's see if I got your shoes all fixed.
At last, I think, I've really succeeded.
Let's try a step! Say, do they still pinch?
(Eva who has been watching and listening motionless, as if enchanted, suddenly bursts into tears, sinks onto Sachs's breast and, sobbing, embraces him. Walther walks over to them and enthusiastically shakes Sachs's hand. A long silence, full of passionate emotion. Sachs finally forces himself to move, pealing himself away so that Eva ends up leaning on Walther's shoulder.)
What shoemaker woe and strife does not court?
If I were not a poet, too,
I would no longer cobble shoes!
It is such a trial and such a chore!
Too wide for this one, for that one, too tight.
The clients rush and crowd from all sides:
These flop,
These slip,
These pinch,
These press.
A cobbler also must be prudent,
Fixing what gets broken or ruined.
And if he is a poet, too,
He will be harassed both at pen and at shoe.
What's worse, if he's a widower
A target he is for the girls.
The youngest maidens, when men run short,
Will beg him to woo them and pay court.
They might get on or else they might not.
It ends the same no matter what:
Of pine tar they'll say he smells
And that he's dumb. Fickle, as well.
My poor apprentice. It's so very sad.
He'll lose everybody's esteem.
That Lene, he's eating out of her hand.
He's all turned around and at sea.
Now where in the hell could that boy be?
EVA (holding Sachs back and embracing him again)
Oh, Sachs! My friend! So dear and sweet!
How to reward your noble deed?
What, without your devotion
And your love, would I be?
In childhood I'd be frozen
Had you not woken me.
Through you have I won
What I prize.
Through you have I learned
Courage wise.
Through you, awake,
My thoughts became
So free and bold and true.
You brought me into bloom.
Chide me, dear Master, well you should.
Wed you I would have if I could.
If I had had a choice
Then you I would have chos'n.
I would have, as your wife,
The prize on you bestowed.
But fate does treat me ill,
My torment she ordained.
I wed against my will
If I should wed today.
Should she compel me, force my hand,
E'en you, dear Master, would be sad.
SACHS My child, of Tristan and Isolde
The sorry tale I know.
Hans Sachs won't take the role of
The good King Mark, poor soul.
Good thing that I the right man found
In time, or else I'd be King Mark now.
Aha! Here comes our Lene down the path.
Do come in! Hey! David! Come greet your lass!
(Magdalene in festive garb enters through the shop door. David, also in festive dress, enters from the interior room at the same time.)
With witnesses and godfather at hand,
Let's quickly baptise! Everyone stand!
(all look at him in bewilderment)
A child this day was born here.
Let's decide what we will call her.
As our Master custom goes,
When any Master melody's new composed
It's baptised and christened with a name
And e'er remembered by the same.
So now, honoured gents, honoured ladies,
This, your task today is.
The new Master song, a thing of beauty,
Is by Sir Walther, who wrote the words and music.
The newborn melody's living father
Asked Eva and me if we'd be the sponsors.
We heard the song when first invented.
Straight to its baptism we two went then.
So for the event we'll have witnesses,
I call Mistress Lene and my apprentice.
But since apprentices can't witness be,
And he sang his verses so expertly,
I make this apprentice a journeyman.
Come kneel down, David, take this from my hand.
(David kneels; Sachs gives him a slap across the face)
Rise, journeyman, and think of that blow.
Remember the christening by it, too.
Perfect it's not, this rite of ours,
But that's how emergency baptisms are.
So the song will have the strength to keep living,
Immediately her name will be given:
"The Song of the Blissful Morn Dream's Meaning"
May she be named, and be prized most keenly.
So she may grow strong in heart and limb
The youngest of godparents sings a hymn.
(Sachs leaves the middle of the half-circle that had formed around him and stands aside so Eva can take his place there.)
EVA Joyfully and sun-filled
Laughs my happy heart.
Morning full of wonder
Joyfully wakes up!
Dream of such elation,
Heavenly morning bliss,
An interpretation
You I joyfully give!
Any song so nobly wrought
Eases my sweet duty
And the meaning of the song
Yields itself up to me.
Was it just a morning dream?
Joyfully, much more it seems.
What the music
Whispers to me,
May it cry
Loud and bright
To the Masters' circle wide,
For it must mean the highest prize!
MAGDALENE Wake I or do I dream I do?
It's too much trouble to think through.
Was it just a morning dream?
Yet my eyes I can't believe!
Just like that, a
Journeyman and
I'm his bride?
In chapel we'll be man and wife?
Yes! It's really true! I'll be,
Yes, a Master's wife! Me!
WALTHER Your true love made lighter my heart's duty,
Brought my heart such sweet success.
You gave meaning to me.
Was it just a morning dream?
Joyfully, much more it seems!
What the music
Whispers to you
Deep inside,
From true love's heights,
Loud and bright
In the Masters' circle wide,
May it vie for the highest prize.
DAVID Wake I or do I dream I do?
It's too much trouble to think through.
It was just a morning dream,
For my eyes I can't believe.
Just like that, a journeyman and
Lene, bride?
In chapel we'll be man and wife?
In my head plays constantly,
"Soon a Master I'll be!"
SACHS To the child lovingly
Would I sing sweet music.
But my heart's dear duty sweet
Counsels silence to me.
'Twas a lovely morning dream
But it's destined not to be.
What the music
Whispered to me
So deep inside
Now loudly cries:
Best do young love's blissful sighs
Blossom when by poets prized.
(turning to the others)
Come on, let's go!
(to Eva)
Your father greet!
Out to the field run on fleet feet!
(Eva and Magdalene exit)
(to Walther)
Sir Walther, come! Take heart, be bright!
David, young man, close the shop up tight!
(As Sachs and Walther exit onto the street and David sets about closing up the shop, a curtain is drawn across the proscenium from either side so that the scene is closed off completely. Horns sound from the theatre, loudly and from far off. Trumpets answer, also from the theatre.)
Act III, Scene 5
Curtain opens. The stage is transformed. The setting is now an open meadow. In the far background is the town of Nuremberg. The Pegnitz River winds across the plain. The narrow river becomes practical on stage. Colourfully flagged boats continually arrive, discharging festively dressed members from all the guilds with their wives and children, on the bank.
A raised stage with benches and chairs has been erected Stage Left. It is hung with the banners of the various guilds whose members have already arrived. As the scene opens, more standard bearers from other guilds arrive and place their banners on the Master Singers' stage so that flags surround the stage on three sides.
Tents with all kinds of refreshment border the main playing space. In front of the tents is a great deal of merrymaking. Townsfolk with their wives and children sit in groups. The Master Singers' Apprentices, festively attired and bedecked with flowers and ribbons, bear slender staves, also bedecked with flowers and ribbons, which represent their offices as marshals and heralds, which the Apprentices merrily fulfil. They receive those arriving on the bank, order the procession of guilds and accompany the standard bearers to the Master Singers' stage. After each standard bearer has placed his flag, the guild members and journeymen disperse to the tents.
Among the guilds arriving on the bank, the following are led Downstage:
SHOEMAKERS (marching under their banner; tenor drums from the audience)
Saint Crispin,
We praise him,
A holy man who proved
What shoemakers can do.
The poor folk with him had it good.
He made for them warm shoes.
When no one leather lend him would
He stole some skins to use.
Shoemakers have a sturdy conscience,
Make shoes in spite of foolish nonsense.
When from the tanner we leather fetch
It's stretch, stretch, stretch
Leather skins out from edge to edge.
(Town Pipers, Lute Makers and Toy Instrument Makers follow, playing their instruments. They are succeeded by the Tailors.)
TAILORS When Nuremberg was laid to siege
And hunger prowl'd the land,
Destroyed the whole town would have been
Were not a tailor at hand,
A wise and most valiant man.
He sewed for himself a goat skin dress.
On the city wall he'd walk in it.
He'd jump around and caper
In goat disguise, this tailor.
The foes thought it was devil's tricks
And out of there they got the heck
To get far away from the meck-meck-meck!
Me-e-e-e-e-eck! Me-e-e-e-e-eck! Me-e-e-e-e-eck!
That goat was a tailor! Who would suspect?
BAKERS (unfurling their banner)
Hunger pains! Hunger pains!
An awful thing to suffer!
If daily bread we no more did bake
The whole world would keel over.
Bake! Bake! Bake!
Every single day!
Keep hunger pains away!
(The Shoemakers, having planted their banner, greet the approaching Bakers on their way off of the Master Singers' stage. The Tailors plant their banner and retire. A colourful boat carrying Girls in peasant costumes arrives. The Apprentices run to the bank.)
APPRENTICES Hooray! Hooray! Maidens from Firth!
Town pipers, play so we can flirt!
(Apprentices help the Girls disembark. The dance that follows takes the form of a game in which it appears that the Apprentices want to lead the Girls Downstage while the Journeymen want to carry them away. The Apprentices always pull the Girls back and the dance continues in a merry circle. David comes to the landing and watches with disapproval.)
DAVID You dance? But say, would the Masters let you?
(Apprentices thumb their noses at him)
No way? Then I'll enjoy myself, too!
(David takes a beautiful young Girl and dances passionately with her. Onlookers laugh with delight.)
APPRENTICES (signalling to David)
David! David! Your Lene looks on!
(David, alarmed, lets the Girl go as the Apprentices form a ring around her. When he doesn't see Lene anywhere David realises he's being teased. He breaks through the circle, grabs the Girl and dances with her even more passionately.)
DAVID Oh, stop your stupid jokes. Leave me alone!
(The Apprentices try to tear the Girl away from him but he dances away with her so that the game of the Apprentices and the Journeymen is repeated as before.)
JOURNEYMEN AND APPRENTICES The Master Singers!
(The Apprentices break off their dance and hurry to the bank.)
DAVID Good God! Goodbye, you charming swingers!
(David gives the Girl a passionate kiss and tears himself away.
The Apprentices line up to receive the Master Singers. The People gladly make way for them. The Masters form a festive procession on the landing and march Down to take their places on the Master Singers' stage.
Kothner bears their banner, which displays King David with his harp, and is greeted with loud cheers and the waving of hats.
The Masters' procession arrives at the Master Singers' stage where Kothner plants the banner. Pogner leads Eva by the hand. She is accompanied by richly dressed and adorned Girls, among whom is Magdalene.
As the Girls seat Eva in her flower-bedecked place of honour, and the others, Masters on benches, Journeymen standing behind them, have also taken their places, the Apprentices solemnly line up before the Master Singers' stage and face the people.)
APPRENTICES Be silent now! Be silent now!
Pray keep quiet and make no sound!
(Sachs rises and steps forward. Upon seeing him, the crowd bursts into cheers, waving hats and handkerchiefs.)
PEOPLE Ha! Sachs! It's Sachs!
Look! Master Sachs!
Let's sing! Let's sing! Let's sing!
ALL (Everyone except Sachs sings the following verse. All who have been seated now rise. The men remain bareheaded. Beckmesser has hidden himself behind the other Masters, still trying to memorise the poem, and is not visible to the audience.)
"Arise! The happy day has come.
I hear singing in yonder grove.
A blissful, happy nightingale,
Her voice resounds through hill and vale.
The night is falling in the west.
The day is dawning in the east.
The red, passionate morning glow
Breaks through the sad and gloomy clouds."
PEOPLE (again cheering)
Hail Sachs! Hail to Hans Sachs!
Hail Nuremberg's treasure Sachs!
SACHS (still and gazing into the distance, at last gives the crowd a friendly glance and speaks, his voice trembling with emotion at first, then growing steadier)
How you go on! I'm overcome.
I don't deserve the honour done.
If I should honour receive,
Let it be through your love for me.
Such honour came to me today
When as the day's spokesman I was named.
And what my speech today will tell
Is full of honour high as well.
He who holds art in high regard
Must prove by all devices
That simply honouring his art
Means more to him than prizes.
A Master rich and principled
Will teach today this lesson:
His dearest thing, his little girl,
And all his worldly treasure
To him who wins the match in song
Before today's assembled throng
He'll offer as the prize.
The winner wins the bride.
So hear me well and all agree:
For poets will this contest be.
You Masters who to try are bold,
I call on you before the folk:
Consider well this rarest prize
And may whoever wins it
Know himself pure and most upright
In courting as in singing
Because the laurel he'll win
Has not, for ancients or for moderns,
E'er been so splendid or so honoured
As is this lovely maiden,
Who never will bewail it
That Nuremberg its highest gift
To art and to its Masters gives!
(Great stirring among the people. Sachs approaches Pogner, who presses his hand, moved.)
POGNER Oh, Sachs, my friend, a worthy speech!
How well you know why my heart aches!
SACHS (to Pogner)
You've risked a lot but do not fear.
(Beckmesser, to whom Sachs has just turned, has from the beginning of the scene been studying the page with the poem on it, in an attempt to memorise it and read it exactly. He keeps moping sweat from his brow in despair.)
Herr Scorer, you're all set there?
BECKMESSER Oh! Of the song I can't make sense
Though I'm a vocal eminence.
SACHS My friend, you are not forced to use it.
BECKMESSER I must, since my own song has become useless.
It was your fault! So now be so kind,
Don't, shameless, leave me in a bind!
SACHS I'd think you'd give up.
BECKMESSER Why is that then?
I'll out-sing all of the other men
If you do not sing.
SACHS Could be. Let's see.
BECKMESSER That song, there's no one heads or tales could make.
But I shall trust in your popular acclaim.
SACHS Well then, if Masters and folks agree,
The song contest will get underway.
KOTHNER (stepping forward)
Ye bachelor Masters, ready your rhymes!
The oldest will be first to sing.
Herr Beckmesser, you begin. It's time!
(The Apprentices escort Beckmesser to a small grassy mound richly decorated with flowers, in front of the Master Singers' stage. Beckmesser stumbles up to it, steps hesitatingly on and totters.)
BECKMESSER The devil! How wobbly! Come fix this thing!
(The Apprentices laugh among themselves and merrily shore up the mound.)
PEOPLE (bursting into laughter)
What? Him? He'll sing?
I don't think he oughta.
I would not want to be the poor daughter!
Oh, hush! He is a learned Master!
Shush and don't make jokes!
He's on the council and he votes!
Look! The man can't stand up straight!
Ha! So how will he compete?
The town clerk, he's Beckmesser by name.
God, what a clown!
He might fall down!
APPRENTICES Be silent now! Be silent now!
Pray keep quiet and make no sound!
KOTHNER Let's begin!
(Beckmesser, who after a great deal of difficulty has steadied himself on the mound, bows first to the Masters, then to the people and then to Eva, who turns away from him. Embarrassed, he turns back and squints at her. Great anxiety seizes him and during the introduction he uses the lute to try and steady his nerves.)
BECKMESSER "Mornings I glow with a rosy pink gleam
And blood so fair
Perfumes the air.
There Philip wanders
Undercover.
A garden bed, could be,
Ingested me.
(Beckmesser steadies himself on his feet)
PEOPLE(to themselves)
Do you hear? Who is Philip?
Did we hear right? Who wrote this stuff?
MASTERS (quietly to themselves)
My, what is this? Is the man potty?
From where could he all these ideas have gotten?
BECKMESSER (secretively takes the page out, peers at it for a second, anxiously tucks it away again)
"Greatly I tolerate my living room,
Fetch gold and fruit,
Wear heels with boots
(he peeks at the page)
On band shells blazed with
Battle stations,
A gaunt leper or three
All murder me."
(begins to totter badly once again. Tries to read the page but gets dizzy and breaks out in flop sweat.)
MASTERS What is he saying? Has he gone mad?
His song not one cent of sense has!
PEOPLE Murderous lepers? That's just what he deserves.
He sure murdered something, the murderer!
BECKMESSER (grim and despairing, takes the plunge)
"So I'm afraid
This here's not good, a shame for me.
By dried peas stood another girl.
She booed me and was likely mean.
Rusty as iron
She grabbed and handcuffed me in twine.
Her white eyes flashing,
Her hound came crashing
As I had warped for so long:
The mouldy fruit that's from
The tree of blight!"
(All roar with laughter. Beckmesser leaves the mound in a rage and storms over to Sachs.)
You damned shoemaker! It's all your fault!
The song, it is not I who wrote.
It's Sachs, whom you all honour high,
Who gave the song to me to try.
He bullied me until he'd hung
Around my neck his awful song.
(stumbles away in a rage; disappears into the crowd)
PEOPLE My! What did he try? He's left us confounded!
Sachs wrote the song? We'd all be astounded!
KOTHNER (to Sachs)
Explain it, Sachs!
NACHTIGALL (to Sachs)
What a disgrace!
VOGELGESANG(to Sachs)
You wrote the song?
(Sachs has calmly picked up the page Beckmesser threw at him)
ORTEL AND FOLTZ A curious case!
SACHS The song, by me? That's not correct.
Herr Beckmesser's wrong in all respects.
Someday he may tell you how he got it
But I'd never dare to boast I wrote it.
That song so lovely and abstract
Is not by Hans Sachs, in fact.
MASTERS What? That song? All that gibberish?
PEOPLE Ha! Sachs just mocks.
He's making light of this.
SACHS I tell you all, the song is good
And it is clear from a glance to conclude
That Friend Beckmesser mixed it up!
I swear it, that the song you'll love
If it’s right words and music
Someone would now to you sing.
Who takes up this task, by it will prove
He wrote the song and poem
And that he is a Master, too,
If you're to justly judge him.
I stand accused and must reply
So therefore let my witness testify.
Can anybody for me speak?
Let him bear witness here for me!
(Walther steps out from among the People and greets Sachs, the People and the Masters with pleasant, knightly courtesy. All grow quiet as they take in the sight.)
Bear witness the song is not by me;
Bear witness, too, so all will see
The praise that I gave
Does not exaggerate.
MASTERS Ha! Sachs, you so-and-so!
But for today we'll let it go.
SACHS The rulebook's worthiness we demonstrate
When now and then exceptions we make.
PEOPLE A worthy witness.
I think some good can come of this.
SACHS Masters and people agree
To consider this man's testimony.
Sir Walther von Stolzing, sing the song!
(gives the page to Kothner to read)
See, Masters, if he gets it wrong.
APPRENTICES We hold our breath! None make a sound.
We won't bother calling "be silent now!"
(Walther steps firmly onto the little flower-bedecked hill)
WALTHER "Morning light glowed with a rosy pink gleam
And blossoms fair
Perfumed the air.
There, full of wonders
Undiscovered,
A garden beckoned me.
(At this point Kothner, in a state of great emotion, unwittingly drops page from which he and the other Masters had been reading the poem. He and the others now actively listen to Walther.)
And from a sweet, enchanted grove
With fragrant fruit adorning,
I watched a blissful dream of love
Reveal my highest longing:
A maid it showed me
Both fair and wise:
Eva in Paradise!"
MASTERS (quietly whispering)
Indeed, this is quite a different song
If badly or if well it's done.
PEOPLE (quietly whispering)
That's something else! Now who would have thought
How different is a well sung song!
SACHS Witness, go on
With the song.
WALTHER "Evening light blanketed me with the dusk.
The path I trod
Led to a font
So soft and holy,
Purely flowing,
It beckoned laughingly:
There underneath a laurel tree
Beneath the glow of starlight
I watched in waking poet's dream
As, lovely, fair and upright,
She sprinkled precious water drops
On me, the maid,
The muse of Mount Parnass'!
MASTERS It's strange and daring, that is true,
But nicely rhymed and singable.
PEOPLE So fair the dream, so fair the tune,
We feel as if we're in it, too!
SACHS Witness so well spoke',
Carry on and close!
WALTHER (very ardently)
"Glorious day:
I from the poet's dream awake!
That which I dreamed, the Paradise,
In new and heavenly array
Before me lay.
The font showed to me the path, now bathed with light.
She who was born there,
My heart's adored fair,
The garden's loveliest sight,
My muse destined to be,
So holy and so kind,
So boldly wooed by me,
In daylight's brightest sunshine,
Through vict'ry in song became mine
Parnass' and Paradise!"
PEOPLE We're mesmerised as if we dream.
I hear it but I can't believe!
Crown him, we cry!
Give him the prize!
Who like this man can woo and love songs write!
MASTERS Yes, gracious singer, you we praise.
Your song wins you the Masters' prize!
Yours the wreath, yours the prize!
POGNER (turning to Sachs with great emotion)
Oh, Sachs! Thank you with all my heart.
Now all my cares are truly gone!
(Walther is led to the Mater Singers' stage where he kneels before Eva. Eva bends down and crowns him with a wreath of laurel and myrtle.)
EVA None like you, dear, can woo and love songs write!
SACHS My witness, yes, I chose him well.
But toward Hans Sachs bear you ill will?
PEOPLE (quickly and jubilantly)
Hans Sachs, no! That was well arranged,
For you set everything to rights again!
MASTERS (turning solemnly to Pogner)
Stand, Master Pogner! Grant to this
Worthy young noble his Mastership!
POGNER (produces a gold chain with three large medallions, then, to Walther)
King David's pictured here in gold.
I welcome you to the Masters' Guild!
WALTHER (refusing with violent intensity)
Not Master! No!
(looks tenderly at Eva)
The Mastership I will forego!
(All turn to Sachs in stunned silence. Sachs walks to Walther and grips his hand meaningfully.)
SACHS For me, reject the Masters not.
Instead, revere their art!
For all that which their work has wrought
Has brought joy to your heart.
No, it is not your nobleness,
It's not your horses or your arms
But your poetic gift,
By Masters now confirmed,
'Tis thanks to that, your happiness.
Therefore with thanks remember this
And ask how art could have no worth
When such great prizes it brings forth.
Because our Masters did commit
To cultivate their art
And, through their studies, cherish it,
It they could truly guard.
No longer noble as it was
When courts and princes sang its praise,
In troubled times, it's proved
To German be and true.
E'en if it flourished in no place
But those most troubled and most pained,
You'd see how honoured art still is.
What more could you of Masters wish?
Beware lest evil forces strike
And conquer our Germanic Reich
And under foreign, false command
No prince our people understands.
Then what a mess, what frippery
Would strangers bring to Germany.
What's true and German, none will learn
Lest German Masters it preserve.
Therefore I cry:
Honour your German Masters;
Good sprites will bless you after!
If their endeavours you'll support,
Then, though may fall
The Holy Roman Reich,
For us will thrive
Our holy German art!
(During the closing song that follows, Eva takes the wreath from Walther's head and places it on Sachs's. Sachs takes the gold chain from Pogner's hand and puts it around Walther's neck. After Sachs has embraced the couple, Walther and Eva lean against Sachs, one on either side. Pogner, as if paying homage, kneels before Sachs. The Masters point to Sachs with upraised hands, as if acknowledging him as their leader. All join in the People's song.)
PEOPLE Honour your German Masters;
Good sprites will bless you after!
If their endeavours you'll support,
Then, though may fall
The Holy Roman Reich,
For us will thrive
Our holy German art!
(As the final phrases are sung the People wave their hats and kerchiefs. The Apprentices dance and clap their hands with joy.)
Hail Sachs!
Nuremberg's dearest Sachs!
Final Curtain