himself heard, steps up to the shoemaker's window. In answer
to his testy questions why he is at his bench at such an hour,
Hans Sachs good-humouredly replies that he must work late to
finish the shoes about which he has been twitted in public.
At his wit's end to silence the shoemaker and sing his serenade,
Beckmesser artfully pretends that he would like to have Sachs's
opinion of the song he intends to sing on the morrow, and
proposes to let him hear it then. After a little demur the
shoemaker consents, upon condition that he may give a tap with
his hammer every time he hears a mistake, and thus carry on the
double office of marker and of cobbler.

Beckmesser is, however, so angry and agitated that his song is
utterly spoiled, and he makes so many mistakes that the cobbler's
hammer keeps up an incessant clatter. These irritating sounds
make the singer more nervous still, and he sings so loudly and
so badly that he rouses the whole neighbourhood, and heads pop
out of every window to bid him be still.

David also ventures to peer forth, and, seeing that the serenade
is directed to Magdalena, whom he recognises at the window above,
his jealous anger knows no bounds. He springs out of the window,
and begins belabouring his unlucky rival with a stout cudgel. The
Nuremberg apprentices, who are divided up into numerous rival
guilds, and who are always quarrelling, seize this occasion to
bandy words, which soon result in bringing them all out into
the street, where a free fight takes place between the rival
factions of journeymen and apprentices.

Magdalena, seeing her beloved David in peril screams aloud,