5th day of August

How quick doth our road worn hides take to any bed in which we lay our heads for the passing beyond single night. Verily be this the third such morn that we awake upon this floor, and it doth start to feel as our home, for during our stay we hath crowned it with our own mess that we must now gather up and pack into the berth of our carriage. Sir William Sly shares a round of his sacred bean blood that hath been chilled. For sooth be this concoction of the greatest of strength as but a few sips doth send swarms of stinging wasps coursing through our veins. Ne'er before hath our company moved through the morning with such fleet feet.

Within the single turn of the hour glass doth we draw apace to the shire of Boulder. We must trust the many signs along the roadside that confirm our arrival, for we though we look for the titular large rock, the hamlet be lush with flora, with not a vulgar rock to be seen. That we hath graced many a stage across New Spain in a myriad of locals, here be but the first time we play amidst folk better voiced in the Shakespeare facet of our name, rather than the metal. Yay, for here we play upon a lawn at the very center of the Shakespeare Festival of Colorado. Pray that the good folk of this shire take not offense at our treatment of the bard and we may yet gain new recruits into our fold. Our quest so far hath tasked us with illuminating the word of the Bard to the natives seeking metal, and yet here in Boulder we must dose a crowd versed in the Bard's prose with our own savage song.

We arrive at the perimeter of the local university, where we meet the fair damsel Lady Amber who escorts us to our makeshift stage. The stage be but a plain of grass, a vast change indeed, though it be a pleasant one. Would that I couldst perform without tights nor high tops about my feet so I may feel the green blades betwixt my toes. Good Lady Amber presents us with a boon of tickets for the evening's show, entitled The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged. How ambitious must this production be, and what a payoff for our own company, that we may perform for but several moments and yet witness such a grand undertaking as a staging of all of the Bard's plays. Methinks it must be a long production if it doth profess to live up to its name. 'Twill be a late night and I may require more sacred blood of the black bean, though my hands still quiver from the liquid lightning of which I sipped in the morn. Perhaps I shall take a nap at one point. May the Merry Wives of Windsor be staged but midway through the show, for that would be a good time to regather my strength.

Massive be the crowd that assembles upon the commencement of our performance. Many a head seems to hath sprung up from the earth at our arrival, and verily be it a grand mix. Young, old, suntanned, wan, displaying tunics both of the Bard as well as the Prophets of Iron Maiden, our music awakens approving smiles upon all faces. Large though the field be, it still cannot contain the flock, and thusly doth it spill around our periphery and stack itself to the horizon. We end our performance, but the good people will not allow us to leave ere we play but one more song. Inspired by the brave notion of compacting the complete works of the Bard onto one stage, we proceed to play our own recitation of Julius Ceasar in its entirety distilled to but five minutes. A crowd so ravenous we have little option but to oblige. Their fervor remained as we erect our shoppe in front of which grew a great file.

How rare be the occasion that we finish our good toil ere the sun slip from the sky, and here within Boulder we hath done just that, ere we hath even supped. To allay the pining of the gut, Viceroy Matthew treks to a local food shoppe and procures a wealth of wares of the Earl of Sandwich. Happily doth we sit upon the grass, blades betwixt the toes, munching upon our feast, and still wonder how a company may perform the complete works of the Bard, and how much could be discarded in order to enrapture the interest of the groundlings.

Curiosity doth continue to nibble at our minds until the very raising of the curtain and the spotlight give light to a solitary actor who reads forth a singular bawdy line of the Bard. "Come upon my right hand!" This very day didst we share a great laugh at the words of St. Dickenson and his cry of "Coming all the time!" The Bard and the Bruce surely be brothers born centuries apart. For sooth didst the cast of three men make good on the promise offered by their production's title, though the abridged portion might deserve more weight, for the whole show diluted countless pages to a scant two turns of the hourglass. Within the course of the first act dost they strafe the body of comedies and touch upon the lesser tragedies, and yet the masterstroke comes within the final act whence they perform Hamlet not once, not twice, nor thrice, but four full times. Once o'er the course of a half hour, then again within but several moments, yet again within the blink of an eye, and a final time backwards. By Ian's inaudibility didst the ghost of Hamlet's father still chill the bones whence it wails "OOB!" Surely our company can learn much from these thespians as they are themselves wizards of conveying the Bard to the common rabble of this day.

And learn we shall! But by the great fortune of our association with Lady Amber do are we presented with invitation to the abode of Duke Geoff where we exchange praises and meet his diminuitive dog called Titus. Oh how the good souls of New Spain celebrate the work of the Bard by the names of their canines, for the more astute readers of this narration would remember some time ago when Lady Stephanie introduced us to the likes of mighty Brutus. Hah! Take that Sir Francis, for the best you might hope for would be to meet a swine called Bacon!

Duke Geoff directs us from his home towards a tavern where wallows good Sir Stephen and Master Matthew, for he doth desire to watch the production of a drama of a different sort featuring a cast that feeds on blood in which the way our own troop feeds on ale. We cannot deem this evening complete ere we make spirited communion with the remaining members of the show, and thusly do we march our ale soaked hides to the prescribed tavern where we purchase a dram of whiskey for the men as a humble offering to their mastery of the stage. May our rousing cheers impart but a mere fraction of their skill to our own outfit.

We grow ablaze with revelry, and thus do we retreat back to the tower of domiciles inhabited by the Duke Geoff who hath offered us the use of his oblong moat in which to cool our spirits. After the static tides turned our flesh to prunes, we retreat back to the court of the university. The trek dries our bodies though our heads remained soaked with spirits, two factors whose only product can imply another swim. So whilst Lord Simms returns to the carriage to retrieve festive incendiaries, the remaining members of our company along with Lady Amber wade into a scenic pond, praying turtles and leeches alike attach themselves not to our persons lest the evening's merriment descend south. But nay didst we retain every inch of our skin and yay for Lord Simms for hosting a most brilliant display of incendiaries. This day doth mark a fort night of our time upon the roads of New Spain, and we of the Company feel but a sour taste that with but several eves hence, we must return to a most intransient way of life.