At these tidings the wheels are all set aside, and the maidens
hasten to help prepare the food for the customary feast. Senta
alone remains seated by her wheel, and Erik, placing himself
beside her, implores her not to leave him for another, but to
put an end to his sorrows by promising to become his wife. His
eloquent pleading has no effect upon her, however, and when
he tries to deride her fancy for the pictured face, and to
awaken her pity for him by describing his own sufferings,
she scornfully compares them to the Dutchman's unhappy fate:--

'Oh, vaunt it not!
What can thy sorrow be?
Know'st thou the fate of that unhappy man?
Look, canst thou feel the pain, the grief,
With which his gaze on me he bends?
Ah! when I think he has ne'er found relief,
How sharp a pang my bosom rends!'

Erik, beside himself with jealousy, finally tells her that
he has had an ominous dream, in which he saw her greet the
dark stranger, embrace him tenderly, and even follow him out
to sea, where she was lost. But all this pleading only makes
Senta more obstinate in her refusal of his attentions, and
more eager to behold the object of her romantic attachment,
who at that very moment enters the house, following her father,
who greets her tenderly. The sudden apparition of the stranger,
whose resemblance to the portrait is very striking, robs Senta
of all composure, and it is only when her father has gently
reproved her for her cold behaviour that she bids him welcome.