The heritage narrative is one of the most important treasures of humanity and has been traveling the planet for as long as at least as the stories that have been transmitted attest. from the steppes of Asia to Arabian Nightshe Decameron of Boccaccio or The tale of tales by Basile. Another of its pillars is, of course, the fable of animals, Greek-Indian, Chinese or from other places, which runs everywhere with moralizing stories starring our companions on the planet who embody moral virtues. And of course we also have exciting derivations in the comparative mythologies that cross the globe with parallel stories of heroes and gods. Each latitude adapts them to its idiosyncrasy, its geographical and, of course, ideological and socio-political conditions. And there are many occasions in which myths and stories intersect with heroes and heroines who alternate between the epic, the exemplary and the romantic. There are numerous examples of this in popular Spanish mythology: today we will see it in a legend of ancient origin, “the lovers of Teruel”. The old story of families confronted by political causes, or separated by socioeconomic differences, and which, however, end up united thanks to the immortal love – you know, the platonic love that divinizes man – of two of their youngest offspring is one of the most classic plots, one of the universal arguments of the heritage narrative. This love is, of course, combined with death: Eros and Thanatos were arguments for parallel stories rather than drives of the psyche. We have them in many pairs of legend: from the myth of Hero and Leander, the fable of Pyramus and Thisbe or the tale of Polyphemus and Galatea, to those of Troilus and Cressida or Romeo and Juliet, in some of the many derivations that this scheme basic has in the history of essential narratives.
In Hispanic mythology, the legend of Juan (or Diego) and Isabel, the lovers of Teruel, stands out, which includes an old scheme narrated in the time of the Reconquista and which is completely parallel to one of the tales of the Decameron by Boccaccio (told there as the story of Girolamo and Salvestra). Although it must be said that the Italian author has an erotic grace that has been sweetened according to the modest ideological schemes of early modern Spain, of course. The outline of the story is well known: there are two noble families in the city, the Marcilla and the Segura. Juan Garcés de Marcilla, known as Diego from the literary recreations of the legend, was a scion of that family, very noble but with few economic resources since their estate was devastated by a plague. From a very young age he was in love with Isabel de Segura, the offspring of the other main family in the city. Love was obviously impossible. Diego promises that he will return from the “wars against the infidels” – either the Crusades or the Reconquest – after having made his fortune to be able to aspire to the hand of his beloved. She promises in turn that she will wait for him. Time passes. For years, Isabel resists her father’s pressure to arrange a wedding of convenience, arguing that it is necessary to wait until she is twenty. That, among other Penelope-style delay stratagems, is working. However, the time comes when you can no longer delay the arranged marriage. The lavish weddings are celebrated with a potentate of the city. It is an unfortunate coincidence that just on the wedding night, once the marriage has been consummated, Diego returns, enriched after long campaigns. Diego sneaks up at the newlyweds’ house at night. Isabel wakes up and finds him at the door. He asks her for a kiss with words that have become famous – “kiss me, I’m dying” – and she refuses twice: with the third breath, the young man falls dead on the spot. Back in the marital bed and after her husband wakes up, Isabel tells him what happened. The husband is surprised that she did not agree to give him a chaste kiss that would have prevented the young man’s death, but he wants to avoid problems and get rid of his body. ANDDiego’s body, exposed in a sacred place to be mourned before the local women, will finally receive the kiss of final love from Mary, after which she also falls struck down by a death of love, which she ends up romanticizing – Eros and Thanatos twinned by new – the whole story. The entire city, impressed by their love event – a collective suffering following the schemes of classical tradition – buries them together.
Since then they have been known as “the lovers of Teruel”, in a story that has had a long survival in the arts and letters. The legend, which is supposed to take place in the 13th century, has been continually rewritten at various times by authors such as Tirso de Molina or Juan Eugenio Hartzenbusch. famous recreations pictorial works are that of Juan García Martínez (1857) and that of Antonio Muñoz Degrain (1884), both in the Prado Museum and there is a famous opera by Tomás Bretón (1889), written on Hartzenbusch’s play. The legend gradually became mixed with history, especially since two bodies were found in the Church of San Pedro in Teruel under the floor of the chapel of San Cosme and San Damián that popular tradition identified with those of the famous lovers. In that chapel, renamed the Lovers’ Chapel, popular devotion He ended up ensuring that in 1955 the bodies were transferred to two alabaster sarcophagi sculpted by Juan de Ávalos, which today are a real attraction for visitors to the city.