Paddy Cockfight. I would wonder at anybody that could be happy in a cell.
Paul Ruttledge. These men fight in their way as your saints fought, for their hand is against the world. I want the happiness of men who fight, who are hit and hit back, not the fighting of men in red coats, that formal, soon-finished fighting, but the endless battle, the endless battle. Tell me, Father Jerome, did you ever listen in the middle of the night?
Jerome. Listen for what?
Paul Ruttledge. Did you ever, when the monastery was silent, and the dogs had stopped barking, listen till you heard music?
Jerome. What sort of music do you mean?
Paul Ruttledge. Not the music we hear with these ears [touching his ears], but the music of Paradise.
Jerome. Brother Colman once said he heard harps in the night.
Paul Ruttledge. Harps! It was because he was shut in a cell he heard harps, maybe it sounds like harps in a cell. But the music I have heard sometimes is made of the continual clashing of swords. It comes rejoicing from Paradise.
Jerome. These are very wild thoughts.
Tommy the Song. I often heard music in the forths. There is many of us hear it when we lie with our heads on the ground at night.