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The Master Singers of Nuremberg.

35

David.

Have I to sing, sir?

Sachs.

Not to-night!
As punishment for to-day's offending
Put all these shoes on the lasts for mending.

(Both go into the workshop and exeunt through an inner door. The Prentices have also dispersed.)

(Pogner and Eva, as if returning from a walk, come silently and thoughtfully down the alley, the daughter leaning on her father's arm.)

Pogner (still in the alley, peeping through a chink in Sachs's shutter).

Let's see if Sachs is in to-night:
I'd speak with him. Suppose I call?
(David comes out of the inner room with a light and sits down to work at a bench by the window.)

Eva.

He seems at home: I see a light.

Pogner.

Shall I?—Why should I, after all?

(Turns away.)

If strange things I should venture,
Might I not earn his censure?

(After some reflection.)

Who said that I went too far? 'twas he.
Yet if our rules I exceeded,
I have but done as he did!—
But that might be mere vanity.

(To Eva.)

And you, my child, your thoughts are hid?

Eva.

Good children only speak when bid.

Pogner.

How sharp! How good!—come now, my wench,
And sit beside me on this bench.

(Sits on the stone seat under the linden tree.)

Eva.

Too chill to stay;
'Twas close all day.

Pogner.

Oh no! 'tis mild and charming;
The evening air is calming.

(Eva sits, nervously.)

A token of a morrow fair
And brilliant in its weather.
Oh child! does not thy heart declare
The joys that morrow does prepare,
When Nuremberg, yes, all the town,
Both rich and poor together,
The Guilds, the burghers of renown
Will meet in highest feather,
To see the rise
And give the prize
To him, the Masters' head,
To whom thou shalt be wed?

Eva.

Dear father, can but a Master win?

Pogner.

Be sure a Master is your fate.

(Magdalena appears at the door and signs to Eva.)

Eva (disturbed).

Aye—'tis my fate.—But now come in—
Yes, Lena, yes!—our suppers wait.

Pogner (rising vexedly).

But we have no guests?

Eva (as before).

Not Sir Walter?

Pogner (surprised).

Hey, what?

Eva.

Did you not meet?

Pogner (half to himself).

I want him not.—
Why no!—What now?—Ah! dare I guess?

Eva.

Dear father, come in and change your dress.

Pogner (going into the house before her).

Hum!—What way does my fancy go?

(exit.)

Magdalena (secretly).

Why do you wait?

Eva (the same).

Be still! speak low!

Magdalena.

Saw David—says that he hasn't won.

Eva.

Sir Walter?—Oh heavens? what's to be done!
Ah, Lena, I quake; who will disclose all?

Magdalena.

Perhaps Hans Sachs?

Eva.

Ah, he's fond of me!
'Tis well, I will go.

Magdalena.

Mind not to expose all!
If you stay longer your father will see.—
When we've supped: another thing I'll unfold thee,
A secret which some one has just now told me.

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