"I meant it. I am not," replied Hans Sachs quietly.
"But I have proof that you are."
"What proof?"
"Why, this poem I have found on your bench."
"Hum. Then how did it get into your pocket?"
"That doesn't matter. You were intending to use it against me," sputtered Beckmesser, growing more and more red in the face.
"No, I wasn't going to use it against you. I repeat, I am not going to sing."
Beckmesser looked at him a moment in a sly way and then suddenly began to wheedle.
"You and I have always been good friends, Herr Sachs. I pray you to forgive me if I said anything hasty. I expect I shall need a good many shoes this winter. Now have you any objection to my using this song?"
"No, I haven't any objection," replied Hans Sachs with a smile.