Then seeing that the people, as well as Beckmesser, were interested in what he had to say, he turned to them and told them the true history of the song—how that a young knight had composed and sung it to him only that morning. He had merely written down the words which had later been seized upon by Beckmesser, who had now tried to fit them to a tune of his own.
Beckmesser interrupted him here. He saw that he himself was standing upon very thin ice and it behoved him to bluster it out.
"A pretty story this!" he cried. "The young knight of whom he speaks was publicly discredited before all our guild only yesterday. He does not know how to write such a song as I have sung!"
"Thank Heaven that he doesn't!" retorted Sachs, amid general laughter. In a moment he continued, "Now I crave the indulgence of everyone here present. You have known me to be just with every man. All I ask of you is to be allowed to prove what I say. The true owner of this song is present here to-day and desires to sing it in the contest. Then you shall be the judge as to whether it be his or Beckmesser's."
"Yes, yes! let him come forward!" came an answering shout.
Hans Sachs turned and looked inquiringly at the members of the guild. They likewise nodded approval. Indeed, they would hardly have dared do otherwise, even if they had been so disposed, in the face of the popular desire. Then the Master of Ceremonies beckoned to Walter, and every eye was fastened upon him while he rose, bowed gracefully and walked toward the stage. As for Beckmesser he took advantage of the moment to slink away without waiting for his rival, and he was not seen again that day!
Before Walter began his song, Hans Sachs gave the paper to members upon the stage.
"Masters," he said, "I pray you note well this song—errors and all—and see if it be not indeed a Master Song!"
During the most intense silence Walter opened his lips and began the refrain of the morning. The first two stanzas were sung even more sweetly than he had sung them before, while the third and fourth—not even known to the clerk—proved a marvellously fitting close. As the last notes of the harp died away to the thrill of his rich voice the audience, masters, burghers, 'prentices and all, stood for a moment spellbound. Then like the crashing of a mighty wave upon the shore the applause broke. They shouted, they cried, they clapped their hands, they flung their hats into the air—even the most sedate of them—while their joy seemed to know no bounds.
For the Master Song had been sung! the event to this music-loving people would go down into history.