And now that gentle lord was all Fordone with sweat and toil, he and his charger; and so weary were they that scarcely could they any longer breathe.
"Sketches and Studies in Italy and Greece, Vol III."
John Symonds
Those ill customs, said Sir Lamorak, are Fordone, for Sir Tristram slew your lord, Sir Nabon, and his son.
"Le Morte D'Arthur, Volume I (of II) King Arthur and of his Noble Knights of the Round Table"
Thomas Malory
Ah, panting, sighing, sighing, ah, Fordone, their mirth died down.
"Ulysses"
James Joyce