Le Morte d'Arthur BOOK XIV CHAPTER I

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How Sir Percivale came to a recluse and asked counsel, and
how she told him that she was his aunt.

NOW saith the tale, that when Sir Launcelot was ridden
after Sir Galahad, the which had all these adventures
above said, Sir Percivale turned again unto the recluse,
where he deemed to have tidings of that knight that
Launcelot followed.  And so he kneeled at her window,
and the recluse opened it and asked Sir Percivale what he
would.  Madam, he said, I am a knight of King Arthur's
court, and my name is Sir Percivale de Galis.  When the
recluse heard his name she had great joy of him, for
mickle she had loved him to-fore any other knight, for she
ought to do so, for she was his aunt.  And then she
commanded the gates to be opened, and there he had all
the cheer that she might make him, and all that was in
her power was at his commandment.

So on the morn Sir Percivale went to the recluse and
asked her if she knew that knight with the white shield.
Sir, said she, why would ye wit?  Truly, madam, said Sir
Percivale, I shall never be well at ease till that I know of
that knight's fellowship, and that I may fight with him,
for I may not leave him so lightly, for I have the shame
yet.  Ah, Percivale, said she, would ye fight with him?
I see well ye have great will to be slain as your father
was, through outrageousness.  Madam, said Sir Percivale,
it seemeth by your words that ye know me.  Yea, said
she, I well ought to know you, for I am your aunt,
although I be in a priory place.  For some called me
sometime the Queen of the Waste Lands, and I was called
the queen of most riches in the world; and it pleased
me never my riches so much as doth my poverty.  Then
Sir Percivale wept for very pity when that he knew it
was his aunt.  Ah, fair nephew, said she, when heard ye
tidings of your mother?  Truly, said he, I heard none of
her, but I dream of her much in my sleep; and therefore
I wot not whether she be dead or alive.  Certes, fair
nephew, said she, your mother is dead, for after your
departing from her she took such a sorrow that anon,
after she was confessed, she died.  Now, God have mercy
on her soul, said Sir Percivale, it sore forthinketh me;
but all we must change the life.  Now, fair aunt, tell me
what is the knight?  I deem it be he that bare the red
arms on Whitsunday.  Wit you well, said she, that this
is he, for otherwise ought he not to do, but to go in red
arms; and that same knight hath no peer, for he worketh
all by miracle, and he shall never be overcome of none
earthly man's hand.