I know, also, whose body you have disinterred--it is that of the ill-fated prophetess, Elizabeth Orton.
And if you do not instantly restore it to the grave whence you have snatched it, I will denounce you to the authorities of the town." "Knowing thus much, you should know still more," retorted Doctor Dee, "namely, that I am not to be lightly provoked.

You have no power to quit the churchyard--nay, not so much as to move a limb without my permission." As he spoke, he drew from beneath his cloak a small phial, the contents of which he sprinkled over the intruder.

Its effect was wonderful and instantaneous.

The limbs of Guy Fawkes stiffened where he stood.

His hand remained immovably fixed upon the pommel of his sword, and he seemed transformed into a marble statue.
"You will henceforth acknowledge and respect my power," he continued.
"Were it my pleasure, I could bury you twenty fathoms deep in the earth beneath our feet; or, by invoking certain spirits, convey you to the summit of yon lofty tower," pointing to the church, "and hurl you from it headlong.