Matthew Hopkins They swim... the mark of Satan is upon them. They must hang. Matthew Hopkins She was innocent. Matthew Hopkins Out-out are the lights-out all!/And over each quivering form/The curtain, a funeral pall,/Comes down with the rush of a storm,/While the angels, all pallid and wan,/Uprising, unveiling, affirm/That the play is the tragedy, 'Man,'/And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.