alve, till the two men, Mr. Desires-awake and
Mr. Wet-eyes, would go home to their huts laden with their Prince's free
gifts and royal bounties.

2. But, with all that, Mr. Desires-awake never went out to his Prince's
pavilion till he had again put his rope upon his head. And, however
laden with royal presents he ever returned to his mean cottage, he never
laid aside his rope. He ate in his rope, he slept in his rope, he
visited his next-door neighbour in his rope, till the only instruction he
left behind him was to bury him in a ditch, and be sure to put his rope
upon his head. The men and the boys of the town jeered at Mr. Desires-
awake as he passed up their streets in his rope, and the very mothers in
Mansoul taught their children in arms to run after him and to cry, Go up,
thou roped head! Go up, thou roped head! We be free men, the men of the
town called after him; and we never were in bondage to any man'. Out
with him; out with him! He is beside himself. Much repentance hath made
him mad! But through all that Mr. Desires-awake was as one that heard
them not. For Mr. Desires-awake was full of louder voices within. The
voices within his bosom quite drowned the babel around him. The voices
within called him far worse names than the streets of the city ever
called him; till all he could do was to draw his rope down upon his head
and press on again to the Prince's pavilion. You understand about that
rope, my brethren, do you not? Mr. Desires-awake's continual rope? In
old days when a guilty man came of his own accord to the judge to confess
himself deserving of death, he would put a rope upon his head. And that
rope as much as said to the judge and to all men--the miserable man as
good as said: This is my desert. This is the wages of my sin. I justify
my judge. I judge myself. I hereby do myself to death. And it was this
that so angered the happy holiday-makers of Mansoul. For they forgave
themselves. They justified themselves. They put a high price upon
themselves. Humiliation and sorrow for sin was not in all their
thoughts; and they hated and hunted back into his hut the humble man
whose gait and garb always reminded them of their past life and of their
latter end. But for all they could do, Mr. Desires-awake would wear his
rope. My soul chooseth strangling rather than sin, he would say. My sin
hath found me out, he would say; I hate myself, he would say, because of
my sin. I condemn an