For several days they rode together without adventure. Then they beheld a shameful sight, that roused their souls to anger. For they saw a villanous knight, known in those parts as Breuse Sans Pité, who chased a lady with intent to kill her, having slain her lover before. Many dastardly deeds of this kind had he done, yet so far had escaped all retribution for his crimes. "Let me ride alone against him," said Gawaine. "I know his tricks. He will stand to face one man, but if he sees us both, he will fly, and he always rides so swift a horse that none can overtake him." Then he rode at full speed between the lady and her pursuer, and cried loudly,-- "False knight and murderer, leave that lady and try your tricks on me." Sir Breuse, seeing but one, put his spear in rest and rode furiously against Gawaine, whom he struck so strong a blow that he flung him prostrate to the ground. Then, with deadly intent, he forced his horse to trample over him twenty times backward and forward, thinking to destroy him. But when Tristram saw this villany he broke from his covert and rushed in fury upon the murderous wretch. But Breuse Sans Pité had met with Tristram before, and knew him by his arms. Therefore he turned his horse and fled at full speed, hotly pursued by the furious knight. Long he chased him, full of thirst for revenge, but the well-horsed villain rode at such a pace that he left him in the distance. At length Tristram, despairing of overtaking him, and seeing an inviting forest spring, drew up his horse and rode thither for rest and refreshment. Dismounting and tying his horse to a tree, he washed his face and hands and took a deep and grateful draught of the cool water. Then laying himself to rest by the spring side, he fell sound asleep. While he lay there good fortune brought to that forest spring a lady who had sought him far and wide. This was Dame Bragwaine, the lady companion of La Belle Isolde, who bore him letters from the queen. She failed to recognize the sleeping knight, but at first sight knew his noble charger, Passe Brewel, which Tristram had ridden for years. So she seated herself gladly by the knight, and waited patiently till he awoke. Then she saluted him, and he her, for he failed not to recognize his old acquaintance. "What of my dear lady, La Belle Isolde?" he asked, eagerly. "She is well, and has sent me to seek you. Far and wide have I sought for you through the land, and glad enough am I to hand you the letters I bear." "Not so glad as I am to receive them," said Tristram, joyfully, taking them from her hand and opening them with eager haste, while his soul overflowed with joy as he read Isolde's words of love and constancy, though with them was mingled many a piteous complaint.