Cleolinda everywhere

I have a version of the story in a children's lit collection; it's about a page long and very simple, almost folk-tale quality. Which is kind of even more fucked up. Basically, the story goes a little like, "Why won't you take off the ribbon, Jane?" asked John, every day for umpteen hundred years until finally they got married and Jane said, "When I'm on my deathbed, John, I'll tell you." So she's dying, and she says, "You can take the ribbon off now," and her head falls off. It is literally about that long.