He came to the house and entered. On a couch in the chamber lay Groa, and her babe was on her breast and she was very fair to see.
“Greeting, lord!” she said. “What wouldest thou here?”
“I have dreamed a dream, and thou alone canst read it.”
“That is as it may be,” she answered. “It is true that I have some skill in dreams. At the least I will hear it.”
Then he unfolded it to her every word.
“What wilt thou give me if I read thy dream?” she said.
“What dost thou ask? Methinks I have given thee much.”
“Yea, lord,” and she looked at the babe upon her breast. “I ask but a little thing: that thou shalt take this bairn in thy arms, pour water over it and name it.”
“Men will talk if I do this, for it is the father’s part.”
“It is a little thing what men say: talk goes by as the wind. Moreover, thou shalt give them the lie in the child’s name, for it shall be Swanhild the Fatherless. Nevertheless that is my price. Pay it if thou wilt.”