‘I know nothing about forgiveness,’ replied the witch. ‘You have eaten my parsley, and must take the consequences; and the consequences are these: I must be godmother to your first child; be it boy or girl, it must belong to me.’
‘Get up, wise man!’ repeated the chancellor in French. ‘Do you mean me?’ exclaimed Pinchauvas. And with one bound he stood up.
The witch said, ‘You may have as much rampion as you like, on one condition—the child that will come into the world must be given to me.’