lone can release him from his
frightful doom:--

'The term is past,
And once again are ended the seven long years!
The weary sea casts me upon the land.
Ha! haughty ocean,
A little while, and thou again wilt bear me.
Though thou art changeful,
Unchanging is my doom;
Release, which on the land I seek for,
Never shall I meet with.'

The unhappy wanderer then tells how he has braved the dangers of
every sea, sought death on every rock, challenged every pirate,
and how vain all his efforts have been to find the death which
always eludes him.

Daland, waking from his sound slumbers, suddenly perceives the
anchored vessel, and chides the drowsy steersman, who has not
warned him of its approach. He is about to signal to the ship
to ascertain its name, when he suddenly perceives the Dutchman,
whom he questions concerning his home and destination.

The Dutchman answers his questions very briefly, and, upon
hearing that Daland's home is very near, eagerly offers untold
wealth for permission to linger a few hours by his fireside,
and to taste the joys of home.

Amazed at the sight of the treasures spread out before him,
Daland not only consents to show hospitality to this strange
homeless guest, but even promises, after a little persuasion,
to allow him to woo and to win, if he can, the affections of
his only daughter, Senta:--

'I give thee here my word.
I mourn thy lot. As thou art bountiful,
Thou showest me thy good and noble heart.
My son I wish thou wert;
And were thy wealth not half as great,
I would not choose another.'

Transported with joy at the mere prospect of winning the love
which may compass his salvation, the Flying Dutchman proclaims
in song his mingled rapture and relief, and while he sings the
storm clouds break, and the sun again shines forth over the
mysteriously calmed sea. The opportunity is immediately seized
by the Norwegian captain, who, bidding the Dutchman follow him
closely, bids the sailors raise the anchor, and sails out of the
little harbour to the merry accompaniment of a nautical chorus:--

'Through thunder and storm from distant seas,
My maiden, come I near;
Over towering waves, with southern breeze,
My maiden, am I here.
My maiden, were there no south wind,
I never could come to thee:
O fair south wind, to me be kind!
My maiden, she longs for me.
Hoho! Halloho!'

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