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The Three Cordeliers
By Monsigneur De Beauvoir _Of three merchants of Savoy who...

The Child Of The Snow
By Philippe Vignier. _Of an English merchant whose wife ha...

The Virtuous Lady With Two Husbands
By Monseigneur. _Of a noble knight of Flanders, who was ma...

Nailed! [85]
By Monseigneur De Santilly. _Of a goldsmith, married to a ...

The Chaste Mouth
By Monseigneur De La Roche. _Of a woman who would not suff...

Two Lovers For One Lady
By Monseigneur De La Barde. _Of a squire who found the mul...

The Mysterious Occurrence In Piccadilly
I. I really never felt so profoundly ashamed of myself i...

The Gluttonous Monk
By Monseigneur De Vaurin. _Of a Carmelite monk who came to...

The Incapable Lover
By Messire Miohaut De Changy. _Of the meeting assigned to ...

The Clever Nun
By Monseigneur De La Roche _Of a nun whom a monk wished to...

The Sore Finger Cured
By Philippe De Laon. _Of a monk who feigned to be very ill...

The Lawyer And The Bolting-mill
By Monseigneur Le Duc. _Of a President of Parliament, who ...

A Good Dog
_Of a foolish and rich village cure who buried his dog in the...

The Scotsman Turned Washerwoman
By Monseigneur De La Roche. _Of a young Scotsman who was d...

Foolish Fear
By Monseigneur Philippe Vignier. _Of a young man of Rouen,...

The Real Fathers
By The Editor. _Of a woman who on her death-bed, in the ab...

Difficult To Please
(*) There is no author's name to this story in any of th...

The Right Moment
By Mahiot D'auquesnes. _Of a damsel of Maubeuge who gave h...

The Three Reminders
By Monseigneur De La Roche. _Of three counsels that a fath...

Indiscretion Reproved, But Not Punished
By The Provost Of Wastennes. _Of a woman who heard her hus...



The Obedient Wife








By The Editor.

_ Of a man who was married to a woman so lascivious and lickerish, that
I believe she must have been born in a stove or half a league from the
summer sun, for no man, however well he might work, could satisfy her;
and how her husband thought to punish her, and the answer she gave him._


When I was lately in Flanders, in one of the largest towns in the
province, a jovial fellow told me a good story of a man married to a
woman so given to venery and concupiscence that she would have let a
man lie with her in the public streets. Her husband knew well how she
misbehaved herself, but he was not clever enough to prevent it, so
cunning and depraved was she. He threatened to beat, to leave her, or to
kill her, but it was all a waste of words; he might as well have tried
to tame a mad dog or some other animal. She was always seeking fresh
lovers with whom to fornicate, and there were few men in all the country
round who had not tried to satisfy her lust; anyone who winked at her,
even if he were humpbacked, old, deformed, or disfigured in any way,
could have her favours for nothing.

Her unfortunate husband, seeing that she still continued this life in
spite of all his menaces, tried to hit upon a method to frighten her.
When he was alone with her in the house, he said;

"Well, Jehanne (or Beatrix, for so he called her) I see that you are
determined to continue this life of vice, and, however much I may
threaten to punish you, you take no more heed of me than though I held
my tongue."

"Alas, husband," she replied, "I am much to be pitied, but there is no
help for it, for I was born under a planet which compels me to go with
men."

"Oh, indeed," said the husband, "is that your destiny? I swear I will
soon find a remedy for that."

"You will kill me then," she said, "for nothing else will cure me."

"Never mind," he said. "I know the best way."

"What is it?" she asked. "Tell me."

"Morbleu!" he said, "I will give you such a doing some day, that I will
put a quartette of babies in your belly, and then I will leave you to
get your own living."

"You will?" she cried. "Indeed! Well, you have but to begin. Such
threats frighten me very little, I do not care a farthing for them. May
I have my head shaved if I attempt to run away. (*) If you think you are
capable of making four babies at once, come on, and begin at once--the
mould is ready."

(*) Long hair was considered honourable, and to have the
head shaved or cropped was a mark of disgrace.

"The devil take the woman," said the husband; "there is no way of
punishing her."

He was obliged to let her fulfil her destiny, for nothing short of
splitting her head open would have kept her backside quiet; so he let
her run about like a bitch on heat amongst a couple of dozen dogs, and
accomplish all her inordinate desires.


*****





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Previous: A Good Remedy



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