the tabulature. For myself, I am not yet so far advanced, and my master often sings the mode of the martinet to me, and unless my good friend Magdalene comes to my assistance I myself sing the mode of dry bread and water. Know then that a mastersinger is he who composes a new mode in poetry and music." Poor Walter is bewildered. His love, however, prevents him from renouncing his project, and when Pogner advances, accompanied by Beckmesser, a grotesque scrivener, who also aspires to Eva's hand, Walter draws near his beloved one's father, and informs him of his desire to compete. Soon the Mastersingers assemble to deliberate in regard to the public competition of the morrow. Among the odd physiognomies of the poet-mechanics the handsome face of Hans Sachs, the illustrious poet-shoemaker, stands out in fair relief. Pogner presents the young gentleman to his brother artists, announcing that he wishes to take part in the competition. A cry is immediately heard: "In what school have you studied? who are you masters?" "When, in the depths of winter," said Walter, "the snow covered the court and castle, seated in a corner of the tranquil fireplace, I read an old book which spoke to me of the charms of spring; then soon the springtime came, and what this book had taught me during the cold nights I heard re-sound in the forests and fields: it is then that I learned to sing." Imagine what shouts and shoulder-shrugs greeted this audacity. He is invited, however, to give a specimen of his talent. He must improvise something; but should he offend the rules more than seven times, his work will be declared unacceptable. The marker, or marksman, armed with slate and pencil, already steps into the box, where he is to shut himself up to listen to the song, and mark down the faults. This marker is Beckmesser, the competitor and rival of Walter. "Begin," he sings out from the back of his place. Walter seizes this word, which is cast at him like a defiance.