wanion

• wannion, wenion

Alteration of earlier waniand, from Middle English waniand (“waning”), present participle of wanien (“to wane”) (from the phrase "in the waniand [moon]", i.e. in the time of the waning moon, in an unlucky period).

• IPA^(key): /ˈweɪni.ən/, /ˈweɪnjən/

wanion (plural wanions)

1. (obsolete) The wane of the moon.
2. (obsolete) Curse.
   • 1617, John Davies, “It’s a mad world my Maisters. And a merry world my Mistrisses”, in Wits Bedlam‎, London:

     S’foote what are these that pynch me? Goblins?
     A wanion on the Elues for me […]

3. (now archaic) Vengeance (in the phrases in a wanion, with a wanion, “with a vengeance”).
   • 1583, Philip Stubbs, “A fearfull Iudgement of GOD, shewed at the Theaters”, in The Anatomie of Abuses‎, London: Richard Jones:

     And yet notwithstanding we must haue these goodly pageants played vpon the sabaoth day (in a wanion) because there are no mo daies in the week.

   • 1606, [Thomas Heywood], The Second Part of, If You Know Not Me, You Know No Bodie. […], London: […] [Thomas Purfoot] for Nathaniell Butter, →OCLC, signature D3, verso:

     By the maſſe I thinke your maſter had more need knock you about the eares, for playing the Iackes vvith him, ther’s your ten pounds, tell it out with a vvanion, and take it for your pains.

   • c. 1607–1608, William Shakeſpeare, The Late, And much admired Play, Called Pericles, Prince of Tyre. […], London: Imprinted at London for Henry Goſſon,  […], published 1609, →OCLC, [Act II, scene i]:

     Look how thou stirrest now! come away, or I’ll fetch thee with a wanion.

   • 1672, John Phillips, Maronides, or, Virgil travestie‎, London: Nathanael Brooks, Book 5, p. 41:

     For ill advised of a rock,
     The ship with such a wannion strook;

   • 1825 June 22, [Walter Scott], Tales of the Crusaders. […], volume I (The Betrothed), Edinburgh: […] [James Ballantyne and Co.] for Archibald Constable and Co.; London: Hurst, Robinson, and Co., →OCLC, page 173:

     “Now, hold thy tongue, with a wanion” said the monk; […]

   • 2014, original 1975, Thomas Dekker, Jonathan Gil Harris, The Shoemaker's Holiday, page 21:

     I stood at our door in Cornhill, looked at him, he at me indeed; spake to him, but he not to me, not a word. Marry gup, thought I, with a wanion!

• Winona