“Then I claim for this man I love, since he is not a heretic, the privilege of receiving the last rites of the church. You shall not damn his soul though you condemn his body. You are too good a Catholic to say a Catholic shall die without grace and church rites.”
To this Don Fernando answers shortly: “There’s no priest within reach.”
“You bring the executioner, but not the priest!” she jeers. “Give him and me at least time to tell our beads—for when he dies—my heart breaks also.” [[262]]
But here there is a bustle at the rear among the arquebusiers guarding the doors, and a man garbed as in the priesthood of the Catholic Church, says: “Room, a father of the church!” And the soldiers permitting him to pass, Guy sees with amazement it is the Father Anastasius he had hoped this night would celebrate his wedding.
“Now,” cries Hermoine, “my Lord of Alva, you cannot refuse.”
“He shall not,” says the priest, “not to me, Father Anastasius, who have lived in Zeeland persecuted all these years for love of the Lord; he dare not refuse permission to save this man’s soul.”
“And why not?” answers Alva haughtily.
“Because I will anathematize you. Great Catholic that you are, you have no right to violate an ordinance of Rome.”
“Then have your way. Bind him securely. Then let him make his orisons to you—in yonder chapel, if you think it would be more holy—and save this man’s soul. Now, girl, get thee to thy chamber.”
“Not until I see the last and hear the last word of the man I love. You have denied all I have prayed you for, you have refused to spare the life of him I love; and I have not cursed you for it—because I am your daughter. But I will call down heaven’s anathema upon you if you send me from his side while life is in him.”