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you'll be cursed with bell, book, and candle. ARCHBISHOP. Please it [134] your Holiness, I think it be some ghost POPE. My wine gone too!--Ye lubbers, look about, FAUSTUS. How now! must every bit be spic'd with a cross?-- Troublesome banquet. POPE. O, I am slain!--Help me, my lords! Or, by our sanctitude, you all shall die!-- POPE. It may be so.-- FAUSTUS. Ay, pray, do, for Faustus is a-dry. MEPHIST. Now, Faustus, what will you do now? for I can tell you FAUSTUS. I pledge your grace. Damn'd be his [135] soul for ever for this deed! POPE. Lord Raymond, crept out of Purgatory, and now is come unto your Holiness for his To lay the fury of this same troublesome ghost. FAUSTUS. Bell, book, and candle,--candle, book, and bell,-- O, come and help to bear my body hence!-- And find the man that doth this villany, Nay, then, take that. [Snatches the cup.] [Exit an ATTENDANT.--The POPE crosses himself.] [Strikes the POPE.] [Exeunt all except FAUSTUS and MEPHISTOPHILIS.] Go, then, command our priests to sing a dirge, I drink unto your grace. I pray, my lords, have patience at this pardon.