Page:Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (IA diemeistersinger68wagn).pdf/31
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The Master Singers of Nuremberg.
27
To sorrow to be bringing.—
(Rising from the stool in displeasure.)
But—"Now begin!"
So cried a voice in my breast
Ere aught of Love I had guess'd;
There stirred a deep emotion
And waked me, as I had slept:
MY heart with throbbing commotion
My bosom's restraint o'erlept:
My blood did course
With giant force,
To novel sensations soaring;
From warmth of night
With boundless might
Sighs hurried me
Towards the sea,
The pent up passion outpouring
The call
How all
My breast an answer makes,
As life anew it takes,
Pouring forth
A glorious lay of love!
So cried a voice in my breast
Ere aught of Love I had guess'd;
There stirred a deep emotion
And waked me, as I had slept:
MY heart with throbbing commotion
My bosom's restraint o'erlept:
My blood did course
With giant force,
To novel sensations soaring;
From warmth of night
With boundless might
Sighs hurried me
Towards the sea,
The pent up passion outpouring
The call
How all
My breast an answer makes,
As life anew it takes,
Pouring forth
A glorious lay of love!
Beckmesser
(who has grown still more restive, tears open the curtains).
Is't nearly finished?
Walter.
What means the call?
Beckmesser
(holding out the slate completely covered with chalk marks).
I've finished with the slate, that's all!
(The Masters cannot restrain their laughter).
Walter.
Yet hear! My lady's praise to ring
My second verse I ought to sing.
My second verse I ought to sing.
Beckmesser (leaving his box).
Sing where you will! Here you're undone.—
My Masters, see the slate, ev'ry one:
The like of this I never knew;
I'd credit no man's oath, thereto!
My Masters, see the slate, ev'ry one:
The like of this I never knew;
I'd credit no man's oath, thereto!
(The Masters are in a commotion.)
Walter.
D'ye let him, Masters, plague me so?
Shall I be heard by you or no?
Shall I be heard by you or no?
Pogner.
One word, friend Marker!
You're somewhat wroth?
You're somewhat wroth?
Beckmesser.
Be Marker he who likes henceforth,
But that this man is quite out-sung
You can decide yourselves among.
'Faith! it is somewhat hard to show
The faults when there's nor top nor toe.
To laws of metric accent defied
No heed at all I gave;
Too short—too long—, ne'er an end I spied;
Who'd think 'twas meant for a Stave?
'Gainst "clouded meaning" I but inveigh:
Could sense be more nonsensical, say?
But that this man is quite out-sung
You can decide yourselves among.
'Faith! it is somewhat hard to show
The faults when there's nor top nor toe.
To laws of metric accent defied
No heed at all I gave;
Too short—too long—, ne'er an end I spied;
Who'd think 'twas meant for a Stave?
'Gainst "clouded meaning" I but inveigh:
Could sense be more nonsensical, say?
Several Masters.
We were not wise, I must confess:
No man could ever his meaning guess.
No man could ever his meaning guess.
Beckmesser.
And then the tune! What muddle insane
Of "Bold adventure"—"Blue-knight-spur" strain,
"High fir-tree" and "Proud youth"-tone!
Of "Bold adventure"—"Blue-knight-spur" strain,
"High fir-tree" and "Proud youth"-tone!
Kothner.
Yes, 'twas all Greek to me, I own!
Beckmesser.
Not one full close, no grace-notes you see!
And not a trace of melody!
And not a trace of melody!
Several Masters (to one another).
Who'd call that a song?
'Tis shockingly wrong:
'Tis but empty clatter,
No meaning nor matter!
'Tis shockingly wrong:
'Tis but empty clatter,
No meaning nor matter!
Kothner.
And from the seat he has risen unheeding!
Beckmesser
To weigh the mistakes be our next proceeding:
On his failure now are ye agreed in?
On his failure now are ye agreed in?
Sachs.
(who listened to Walter from the first with serious interest).
Stay, Master! Not quite so fast!
Not all have like opinion passed.—
The song you've so derided
To me is new, but not confused:
Though not by us 'twas guided,
His course was firm, as though well used.
One way you measure solely
A work that your rules do not fit;
Resign your own views wholly,
Some other rules apply to it.
Not all have like opinion passed.—
The song you've so derided
To me is new, but not confused:
Though not by us 'twas guided,
His course was firm, as though well used.
One way you measure solely
A work that your rules do not fit;
Resign your own views wholly,
Some other rules apply to it.
Beckmesser.
Aha! That's fine! Just listen,
Sachs opes a gap for fools that way,
Where in and out at pleasure
Their minds a course can measure.
Let in the streets the rabble holloa;
Here must we at least some discipline follow.
Sachs opes a gap for fools that way,
Where in and out at pleasure
Their minds a course can measure.
Let in the streets the rabble holloa;
Here must we at least some discipline follow.
Sachs.
Friend Marker, why in such a flutter?
Wherefore so angry, pray?
A riper judgment you might utter
If better heed you'd pay.
And so, to speak my final word,
The young knight to the end must be heard.
Wherefore so angry, pray?
A riper judgment you might utter
If better heed you'd pay.
And so, to speak my final word,
The young knight to the end must be heard.
Beckmesser.
The Master's Guild, the school and all,
Weighed against Sach's word must fall.
Weighed against Sach's word must fall.
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