Thopas' comeuppance and victory

With just the hint of a problem last time, here comes the real thing.
          There came a great giant,
          His name was Sir Elephant.
Aside from noting the mammoth size of Sir Elephant, the poet declines to give any physical details. The simpler the description, the easier it functions on more than one level.
     The giant's first action, as he swears by a pagan god, is to threaten Thopas.
          "By Termagant!
          If you prick out of my haunt,
               Immediately I'll slay your steed."
"Termagant," may be foreign to us, but Crusaders had returned home with stories of the Arabian god. The giant is prepared to eliminate Thopas' horsemanship.
     Thopas is quick to challenge.
          "Tomorrow will I meet with thee
               When I have my armor;
          . . . 
         With my lance thou shalt
               Buy it bitterly.
                         Thy belly
          I shall pierce . . . 
          Before it is nine in the morning,
               For here thou shalt be slain."
Thopas makes the foolish-sounding promise that a lance will end the giant's life.
     The challenge given,
          Sir Thopas drew back very quickly. 
          This giant cast stones at him.
               . . . 
          But Thopas fortunately escaped.
Sir Elephant continues to menace our hero with stones, but Thopas retreats unharmed.
     In a plot of sexual activity, our instinctive answer as to what would prevent such escapades is venereal disease. Crusaders not only brought back stories, but some brought back afflictions. "Termagant," the Arabian god plus "Sir Elephant" adds up to a well-known "venereal" disease--Elephantiasis Arabum. (In the Middle Ages, any genital distress would be considered a venereal disease, just as any serious skin condition would mean being cast out as a leper.)
     Crusaders learned about elephantiasis, enlargements which can attack the genitals. A grossly exaggerated scrotum can weigh one-hundred pounds or more. Sir Elephant, as the personification of Venereal Disease, appropriately heaves stones.
      Now, oddly, we gain an astonishing fact about the enemy. Thopas must fight
          A giant with three heads.
Another of Chaucer's brilliant ambiguities: there are three heads. Why didn't Chaucer mention this at Sir Elephant's entrance? His generic identification as Venereal Disease came first. And now we zero in on the specific complaint. The phallus is threatened by three heads, that is three inflamed boils. What does a fourteenth-century man do to rid himself of three infected heads? He accepts a physical ordeal. The "battle" to be waged against the "opponent" is staged in a doctor's quarters. As he says, the three heads will be done away with--with a lance--by 9 A.M. tomorrow morning.
     The surgeon's procedures are conveyed in terms of a medieval knight preparing for combat. The surface details, however, are not consistent with real knightly garb. Medical requirements masquerade as inventive approximations of clothing and armor.   
     Thopas dons
          A breech and also a shirt.
A padded cotton garment (breech) worn over a shirt is absurd. But cotton and linen cloths were a doctor's standard supplies. After preliminaries--cleansing, absorbent padding, etc.--the "battle" begins.
     (The surface plot contains a deception. Though this supposed preparation continues, the giant never returns. The talked-about battle never takes place.)
     Back to Chaucer's arming charade as we're told
          A fine piece of armor 
          Was wrought of Jew's work,
               Very strong it was of plate.
The "plate" and "Jew's work" are clues. Jews were prominent medical men of the time. And a metal plate served as protective guide for cauterizing.
     When the surgery is completed, having used a lance to remove the infected portions of the phallus, the bleeding must be stopped. Cautery irons, "as many as shall be needful," are heated until they glow red. Each is applied until the iron loses its redness; the application is repeated as often as necessary.
     At this point, Thopas
          Swore . . .
          That the giant shall be dead.
Though the battle we expected didn't take place, still Thopas was victorious.
     Soon a positive prognosis is made. Recovery is nearly complete, indicated by the condition of Thopas' "spear."
          The head was well sharpened.
The "well sharpened" head has recovered the ability to pierce.
     Will this revitalized "warrior" be prudent in his actions? Apparently not. No sooner is his "spear" in good condition than his gray steed is cautiously on the move.
          His steed was all dapple gray,
          It went at an amble in the way
               Full soft and round
                         In land.
          Lo, my lords, here is a fit!
It's an easy-going first venture. Chaucer the storyteller even exclaims about the fit!
     Now, addressing his listeners directly, Pilgrim Chaucer proposes
           If you will [have] any more of it,
                To tell it will I fonde (strive).
Though notes usually say "fonde" means strive, that's the seventh definition of this multipurpose word. The presence of Christ creates a profound additional level of relevance because the second definition of fonde is "to tempt to evil," and the very first, "to try the patience of God."
     Christ allows Chaucer to go on. The poet assumes his listeners want more, and so will continue. He will tempt his audience to evil and, above all, he WILL try the patience of God.