"I am glad to hear you say this, Sir Knight; but the matter has to be settled--after the promise I have given--according to certain regulations set down by the Mastersingers; but I shall try to give you the best of chances." Pogner said this heartily, for he would like to have that fine fellow for a son-in-law. Meanwhile, all the Mastersingers had arrived by way of the sacristy door, and Hans Sachs the very last. Kothner took from his pocket the list of names of those who were to sing, and standing apart, he began to call the roll. Each responded to his name, and then Pogner formally announced what the prize was to be. Each man cried that he would be the one to win the prize--since it was _such_ a prize. "But remember," Pogner interrupted their enthusiasm, "although I am determined she shall marry none but him who wins the prize, if she should not love that singer, she shall not be forced, but shall remain single all the rest of her life"; and with that they had to be content. "Let me make still a suggestion, Herr Pogner," Hans Sachs, the shoemaker spoke up. He loved Eva with all his heart, but he was good and true and fair. He knew that he was growing old, and that he sang so finely that it was not fair he should enter into such a competition. If he sang for the prize, the contest would be won before it was begun. "Let me suggest that all the people of Nuremberg shall have a hand in choosing the best singer. To-morrow at the fete, let all the people hear the singers, and let theirs be the choice." "Ho, ho! Then farewell, art," the Mastersingers cried, indignantly. "That is a fine joke, indeed, Sachs. Pray what do the people know about art? What do they know of the singing master's rules? Bah!" "Listen!" Sachs said, impressively. "That which the people approve, is good; they know naught of rule, but they know what beauty of song and theme is better that we. Leave it to the people's choice and you shall not rue it. Besides, a maiden's heart is to be disposed of, and those who are judges among us are not without selfish feelings. Let the people decide and leave the maiden free." "Oh, I suppose you are thinking and speaking for yourself--a widower," Beckmesser cried, trying to belittle the shoemaker. "So little is that so, my friends, that I shall not sing." Every one loved Hans Sachs and now recognized his generosity. "I am too old for such as she." Thereupon Beckmesser became furious, because he was older than Hans, yet he considered himself quite young enough to marry her. "Well, my friends, there is one more piece of business: this young knight," leading forth Walther, "wishes to enter the race, and I present him with right good will." This was almost too much for the beset Beckmesser. He fairly foamed at the mouth.