Sir Guy de Warre.
Reading edition
Like Ragnor's rocks. He swore that she should wed Sir Ralph of Normanhurst, His sister's son. Would not the Holy Church deem her accursed, Dared she defy his will and marry one Of her own choice! Were't so, 'twere better she were dead!
"Dear father, mine," Rowena pleaded sore, On bended knee, "The heart Belongs to God. To wed where hallowed love can; have no part Were sin, deserving His all-chastening rod, Whose blessing on such tie 'twere impious to implore."
"Sir Guy, my spouse, a mother's prayers, I too Would blend with hers. O yield, Our only child, Possession sweet of woman's holy field— Affection's glebe—a virgin soil denied When wedlock makes those one whose hearts can ne'er beat true."