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.