Becket. Have you thought of one?
Henry. A cleric lately poison’d his own mother,
And being brought before the courts of the Church,
They but degraded him. I hope they whipt him.
I would have hang’d him.
Becket. It is your move.
Henry. Well—there. (Moves.)
The Church in the pell-mell of Stephen’s time
Hath climb’d the throne and almost clutched the crown;
But by the royal customs of our realm