Wone

This I make thi wonnyng playce, / ffull of myrth and of solace

For now the best and noblest knight alive Prince Arthur is, that wonnes in Faerie Lond; He hath a sword, that flames like burning brond.

Then we entered the city and found all who therein woned into black stones enstoned[…]

On the cool height awhile out Palmers ſtay, And ſpite even of themſelves their Senſes chear; Then to the Wizard's Wonne their Steps they ſteer.

What secret place (quoth he) can safely hold So huge a masse, and hide from heaven's eye? Or where hast thou thy wonne, that so much gold Thou canst preserve from wrong and robbery?