’Let David supply all
    The facts of the trial.—­
    David, my dear, just heed what I say! 
    You must induce Sir Walther to stay. 
    The larder I’ll sweep,
    The best for you keep;
    To-morrow rewards shall fall faster
    If this young knight is made Master.’

Walther, who has just passionately declared to Eva that he knows he could become both poet and musician for her sweet sake, since her father has vowed never to allow her to marry any but a Master, now listens attentively to David’s exposition of the school’s rules and regulations.  In the mean while the apprentices come filing in, prepare the benches and chairs, arrange the Marker’s curtained box, and gayly chaff each other as they join in an impromptu dance.

They only subside when Pogner, Eva’s father, enters with Beckmesser, an old widower, the Marker of the guild, who flatters himself he can easily win the prize on the morrow, and would fain make Pogner promise that the victor should receive the maiden’s hand without her consent being asked.  He fears lest the capricious fair one may yet refuse to marry him, and decides to make sure of her by singing a serenade under her window that very night.  But when he sees the handsome young candidate step forward and receive the support of Pogner, (who has already made his acquaintance, and who evidently is inclined to favour him,) the widower looks very glum indeed, and vindictively resolves to prevent his entrance into the guild by fair means or by foul.

Hans Sachs, the poet shoemaker of Nuremberg, and all the other members of the guild, having now appeared, Beckmesser calls the roll, and Pogner repeats his offer to give his fortune and daughter to the winner of the prize on the morrow, and charges the guild to select their candidates for the contest.  Of course the very first thing to be done is to examine the new candidate.  Walther, when questioned concerning his teachers and method, boldly declares he has learned his art from nature alone, chooses love as his theme for a trial song, and bursts forth into an impassioned and beautiful strain.  But as his words and music are strictly original, and therefore cannot be judged by the usual canons, Beckmesser savagely marks down mistake after mistake, and brusquely interrupts the song to declare the singer is ‘outsung and outdone.’  In proof of this assertion he exhibits his slate, which is covered with bad marks.  Hans Sachs, the only member present who has understood the beauty of this original lay, vainly tries to interfere in Walther’s behalf, but his efforts only call forth a rude attack on Beckmesser’s part, who advises him to reserve his opinions, stick to his last, and finish the pair of shoes which he has promised him for the morrow.  Walther is finally allowed to finish his song, but the prejudiced and intolerant citizens of Nuremberg utterly refuse to receive him in their guild, and he rushes out of the hall in despair, for he has lost his best chance to win the hand of his lady love by competing for the prize on the morrow.  His departure is a signal for a tumultuous breaking up of the meeting, the apprentices dancing as before, as soon as their masters have departed.