When they arrived upon the shore, a gay scene was already taking place. Dame Mary and her merry maidens had brought food and wine on deck, and the jolly sailors were soon greeting their pretty sweethearts, and feasting, laughing, and singing with thankful hearts.
In strange contrast to this merriment, complete silence reigned on board the Flying Dutchman's ship, for though food and wine had also been brought out for the stranger's crew, they kept down below, and gave no sound of life at all. It was in vain that the maidens tried to attract their attention; and at length, alarmed at the strange looks of the silent vessel, they desisted altogether.
And then, when the Norwegian sailors, in their own enjoyment, had almost forgotten the presence of the strangers, the mysterious crew of the Flying Dutchman suddenly roused up and began to sing, in harsh, unearthly tones, a wild song, in which they told the story of their ill-fated master; and at the same time a dark, bluish flame gleamed around them, and loud rumblings of a storm were heard.
At first the startled Norwegians looked on in wonder, and tried to drown these weird sounds with their own gay singing; but after a while they grew alarmed, and, overcome by the dreadful scene, and full of horror, they hurriedly crossed themselves and retired to the cabin. On seeing this, the crew of the phantom ship burst into a peal of shrill, demoniacal laughter; and then the ghastly flame died slowly away, the stormy rumblings ceased, and silence reigned once more.
The Norwegians now knew that the dreaded and shunned Flying Dutchman and his evil crew from the abodes of darkness were in their midst; and Erik the Huntsman, shocked and horrified, rushed towards Senta, and implored her to renounce the stranger whose evil fate she had agreed to share. He passionately pleaded his own faithful love, begging her to accept it once again; and he reminded her of the old sweet days when she had been contented to love him, saying:
"Hast thou forgot that day when thou didst call me,
Call me to thee, yon pleasant vale within?
When, counting not what labour might befall me,
Fearless I climbed, gay flow'rs for thee to win?
Bethink thee, how, upon the headland standing,
We watched thy father from the shore depart,
He, ere we mark'd his gleaming sail expanding,
He bade thee trust my fond and faithful heart,
Why thrill'd my soul to feel my hand clasp'd in thine?
Say, was it not that it told me thou wert true?"
These tender, pleading words were heard by the Flying Dutchman, who was hovering near; and the wretched man, full of disappointment and despair, believing that Senta was about to renounce him, rushed on board his own ship and drew the anchor, crying out wildly: "Abandoned! All is for ever lost! Senta, farewell!"
But Senta, though torn by Erik's pleading, still found her love and devotion to the Flying Dutchman the strongest feeling in her heart; and, rushing forward to follow him, she cried:
"Canst thou doubt if I am faithful?
Unhappy! What has blinded thee?
Oh stay! The vow we made forsake not!
What I have promised, kept shall be!"