You May Almost Hear The Sweating Of His Fangs

      The pain of loss when they cancelled the show? I'm going to share. --- Joss Whedon

Promises, promises.... Apparently tomorrow's finale "kills off at least one major character and hinges on the betrayal of another." Just one character? Nuts. Please don't let it be Spike, not because I like him but because I don't think any of us could bear yet another unnecessary resurrection of him when Whedon eventually takes yet another kick at the undead can. But for those of you in impending mourning, might I invoke the Bard?

Two loves I have, of comfort and despair,
That like two spirits do suggest me still;
My better angel is a man right fair,
My worser spirit a woman colour'd ill.
To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her fair pride.
And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend.
Suspect I may, yet not directly tell:
For being both to me, both to each friend.
I guess one angel in another's hell:
The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

--- The Passionate Pilgrim (Sonnet II)

I'll leave you few fans of the show to tangle out my implied ironies. As Byron wrote:

The angels all were singing out of tune,
And hoarse with having little else to do,
Excepting to wind up the sun and the moon,
Or curb a runaway young star or two.

--- The Vision of Judgment

Don't worry, Angel fans, I'll kindly leave Milton out of it. Consider that my present for your mourning.