The Way of a Virgin/The Wedding Night of Jean the Fool

The Way of a Virgin
edited by L. and C. Brovan
The Wedding Night of Jean the Fool
1142925The Way of a Virgin — The Wedding Night of Jean the Fool

THE WEDDING NIGHT OF JEAN THE FOOL.[1]


"MOTHER mine," quoth Jean the Fool "I would marry."

"Thou wouldst marry, poor innocent? And what wouldst thou do with a woman? And who would want thee? To marry, thou must have culture at thy back (for thus they term those who have wordly goods), and thou hast none. Furthermore, thou must pay court to the maidens, and thou art too great a fool to know how to do that."'

"What doth one do when he goeth to visit the maidens?"

"One goeth to them when they hold a party, one indulgeth in all manner of drolleries, one pincheth them, one snatcheth their handkerchiefs when they blow their noses, one pulleth at their petticoats, and one laugheth."

"Good," said Jean to himself; and went out.

Passing down a road, narrow and filled with mire, he sat down, and when he felt he had sufficient 'cultivation' on his backside, he went to a farm where there was a party. The youths and maidens, when they saw Jean the Idiot enter all smeared with mire, drew back to make room for him, lest they themselves be soiled. In the end he found in the lobby a stool on which he sat near one of the maidens, whom he scrutinised closely.

She drew away from him; Jean pinched her, rudely snatched away her handkerchief when she sought to make use of it, and laughed like a fool. Then, thinking to succeed with her, he tugged so violently at her petticoat that he broke the strings that held it up. The maiden, half undressed, was enraged, and Jean was kicked out of doors, amid the shouting and jeering of the entire company.

From this moment Jean the Fool had no desire to pay court to maidens. But his mother, who felt herself growing old and had need of a daughter-in-law to aid her, said to him one day:

"Jean, thou must marry."

"Nay, indeed, mother mine. I was tricked enough when I saw the maidens."

"Nevertheless, 'tis good to be married. Thy wife will give thee a chicken to eat."[2]

Jean gave his consent and was married. When he was abed with his wife, he believed that she would serve up a chicken for him, and he said to her:

"Give it me."

"Take it," answered his wife.

"Give it me, I tell thee."

"Take it, then."

Thus passed the night, and on the morrow Jean the Fool went weeping to his mother, saying:

"Mother, I begged her for it, and she would not give it me."

"He lieth!" cried the wife. "I have told him to take it if he wished it."

And she went to complain to her mother that she had married and idiot, who passed the whole night saying "Give it me" without doing aught else. The good woman saw clearly that her son-in-law was foolish, and she bade him on the following night mount upon his wife and thrust at a spot where he felt some hair.

Jean did as he was counselled, but instead of stretching himself at full lenght upon her, laid himself across his wife and began to thrust with all his force, but without success, as one can well imagine, a woman's slit not being at the same angle as her mouth.

Nor was it until the third night that Jean the Fool learned how he must comport himself to have a chicken, and then he found it very much to his taste and his wife also.[3]


  1. Kruptadia: Heilbronn, Henninger Frères, 1884: vol. 2, Breton Folk Lore.
  2. The play on words here is somewhat obscure. Manger un poulet is not a slang term for the sexual act. Interpreting freely, we might read: "Will give thee a chicken to pluck," i.e.: her virginity. This is borne out by the wife's subsequent behaviour. On the other hand, the mother may be speaking simply and literally.
  3. We make no apology for the frequent extracts from Kruptadia to be found in this volume and those to follow of Anthologica Rarissima. Kruptadia, perhaps the most remarkable recueil of folk lore stories, songs, sayings and proverbs in the world, is a work far too little known to the student and bibliophile. Its rarity may be explained by the fact that comparatively few copies of each volume were struck off. Of Vol. 2, from which "The Wedding Night of Jean the Fool" is taken, only 135 numbered copies were done. A complete 12 volume set, in the original format (the work was begun in Heilbronn by Henninger Frères and completed in Paris by Welter) is not often seen, and we count ourselves fortunate in having one before us as we write. Havelock Ellis frequently refers to the collection in his Studies in the Psychology of Sex, while Pisanus Fraxi, the great bibliographer of erotic, prohibited and uncommon books, was just able to notice the first two volumes in his Catena Librorum Tacendorum, (London: Privately Printed: 1885). He pays genorous tribute to the production. "Students of folk lore," he writes, "will hail with delight the appearance of this well-printed and carefully got up little volume, to be followed, let us hope, by many others of the same kind, equally remarkable for talented and faithful rendering, and masterly editing." Dealing with the tales themselves, he goes on to say that "they reveal to us in an interesting and unequivocal manner the feelings, aspirations, modes of thought, manner of living of the people who tell them, and are possibly one of the most valuable contributions to the study of folk lore which has yet appeared……. They are all characteristic—all good." Fraxi then gives the pith of "The Enchanted Ring." which we have already printed at length in this volume. In the concluding pages of his Catena Librorum Tacendorum, Fraxi states that vol. 2 of Kruptadia has reached him in time to mention briefly its contents. Since these words were written, ten other volumes have been issued—a veritable mine of entertaining and instructive information. We even go so far as to say that genuine students of folk lore and collectors of curious literature cannot afford to ignore Kruptadia, even as they should have access to Pisanus Fraxi's 3-volume work, INDEX LIBRORUM PROHIBITORUM, CENTURIA LIBRORUM ABSCONDITORUM, and CATENA LIBRORUM TACENDORUM. Possession of these works by all is impossible owing to their rarity, cost and small imprint. Not every student can afford to pay £20 to £30 for the complete set of Kruptadia, even if he be luckly enough to chance on such a find, while Fraxi's amazing bibliography, in the sale room alone, commands about £35; and while the price tends steadily to increase, the appearance of the complete 3-volume set as steadily decreases.