"Begin!" he exclaims, "it is the cry uttered to Nature by Spring, and her powerful voice resounds in the forests, in the thickets; the distant echoes reverberate them. Then everything awakes and becomes animated. Songs, perfumes, colors are born of this cry." All the joy with which the birth of spring can fill a young man's heart, sings in Walter's voice. But the rules, what has he done with them? and the tabulature,--the rules laid down in the tables? At each instant the pencil is heard grating upon the slate, and soon even the marker springs furiously from his box, declaring that there is no more room on his tablet. Then every tongue is set loose, and all vent their anger upon the young knight; he has heaped error upon error, folly upon folly; he does not know the first word of art. "He even rose hurriedly from his seat," cries one master, at the end of his arguments. In the midst of this tumult, which becomes formidable, Walter resumes his free and joyous song, as if to protest, in the name of reviving nature, against this glacial breath of blighting winter. The frolicsome apprentices, delighted with this confusion, surround the furious assembly in a wild round dance, and ironically wish that Walter may get the betrothal bouquet. The second act shows us one of the picturesque streets of ancient Nuremberg. Hans Sachs' shop opens upon one side, while on the other stands Pogner's house. Sachs returns from the tumultuous sitting in a thoughtful mood; he alone has been deeply moved by the young knight's improvisation, and feels his old beliefs wavering. "Ah," he cries, while the orchestra rehearses again and again fragments of Walter's song, "I cannot retain this melody, nor yet can I forget it; it was new, and yet it sounded like an old song." He enters his house and sets himself at work before the open window. Eva, who loves the young knight, comes and surprises Hans Sachs, and tries to obtain information from him in regard to the meeting, and the manner in which Walter was received. "Oh, as far as that goes, all is lost!" cries Sachs. "My child, he who is born master will not make his fortune among masters; let him go elsewhere in search of happiness." "Yes, he will find it elsewhere," cries the young girl, angrily; "near hearts which still burn with a generous flame in spite of envious and crafty masters." Walter comes back, still quivering with rage; he wishes to carry off his beloved and marry her in his castle. It is nightfall, the hour is propitious, the street deserted. Eva consents to follow her lover; but Hans Sachs, who watches over the two, sets his shutters ajar, and lets the light of his lamp fall upon them; a luminous trail bars the way; the two lovers are made prisoners by this ray.