Canto XXXV Upon that sound craig of Hell a hangman was.In mortal form he stood and slew the judgédcriminals of those doctrines of men called laws.His ancient comrades made the skill accurséd–-a shameful finesse, the executioner,not the accused, worked with his face all blackened.They devised ways to kill the malefactoruntil finally they invented a pillthat would destroy any felon forever.This capsule was used by the face on the hill.Employed by his king as the pill's dispenser,many a grave with the results he did fill.He was, without earthly doubt, a murderer––and yet he was not punished for his offense,for it is justified
Sta.sh
