O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

Once upon a time, in Mr. Downs' eighth grade English class at Newark Academy, we read Romeo and Juliet. Aside from the essay and project that we had to do on Shakespeare's beautiful tragedy, we had to memorize one of its many monologues.

My 13-year-old self stood up in front of the class, to the side of the podium instead of behind it, and began Juliet's oft-quoted and fanciful balcony performance. Approximately seven years later, I finally made it to the balcony itself.

Well, to be quite honest, Juliet's famous proclamation of "be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet" probably never happened. And if it did, it's questionable as to whether or not it happened at this site. In fact, as I learned from the museum, Shakespeare's play is an adaptation of The History of Romeus and Juliet by Arthur Brooks, which is a translation of an Italian novella by Matteo Bandello. Bandello supposedly heard the story from one of the residents of Verona.

La Casa di Giulietta is the former home of the family upon which the Capulets are thought to be based. It is a museum that has been born out of the fame of Shakespeare's masterpiece and the way that it has touched the hearts of so many "star-crossed lovers" since. And I smiled from ear to ear for every second of my time there.

For approximately for euro you gain entrance into the beautiful Italian palazzo. Traveling up flight upon flight of stairs, you make your way through the house. A very "bare bones" approach has been taken as the furnishings are minimal, but there are many framed pieces of art inspired by the story, as well as different published copies of the text. The first floor offers the balcony, where you can gaze down into the courtyard at the statue of Juliet and the ivy-covered walls. The next floor offers a bedroom containing an antique bed, images from the 1968 movie that accompany the labels, and two encased costumes from the period. Also, if you haven't seen that 1968 version, you must. It's the best one.

My inner actress.

One of the period costumes.

As you continue your climb, you find a room with a specially designed computer set-up where you can write your own "letter to Juliet." In case you haven't seen the Amanda Seyfried film "Letters to Juliet," there's a phenomenon where people write letters to the fabled character. Beginning in the 1980s, a group of local volunteers founded the Club di Giulietta and attempt to respond to the thousands of letters that arrive in Verona each year. There's a kind of sweet magic to that, which I appreciate.

A blank page for one's letter to Juliet.

Next you find a dining room that would have been typical of a rich family at the time, as well as more stunning views. While my two lovely friends decided to make fun of the lack of historical grounding the museum has the entire time, I chose to embrace the moment. After all, who doesn't love to ground their literary inspiration in something real on occasion?

A few interior shots of the house.

My lovely friends making fun of the museum. 

While we didn't make it to Juliet's tomb, which is on the other side of town, but tour-able nonetheless, I just thought I'd mention it as it adds an extra component to the story.

Also, before I forget, it's great romantic luck to rub the right breast of the statue of Juliet in the courtyard of her house.

For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.