But we must have a mightier man than he
For his successor.

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 clutch'd the crown;
But by the royal customs of our realm
The Church should hold her baronies of me,
Like other lords amenable to law.
I'll have them written down and made the law.

BECKET.
My liege, I move my bishop.

HENRY.
And if I live,
No man without my leave shall excommunicate