英语词源字典 - 在线词源网站

accord [accord 词源字典]: accord: [12] In its original source, Vulgar Latin *accordāre, accord meant literally ‘heart-toheart’ (from Latin ad ‘to’ and cord-, the stem of cor ‘heart’). It passed into Old French as acorder, and was borrowed comparatively early into English, turning up in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle in 1123. Its general sense of ‘being in agreement’ has been narrowed down in English and other languages to the notion of ‘being in harmony musically’, and either Italian accordare or French accorder provided the basis for German akkordion (from which English got accordion), the musical instrument invented by Buschmann in Berlin in 1822.
=> cordial[accord etymology, accord origin, 英语词源]
almond: almond: [13] The l in almond is a comparatively recent addition; its immediate source, Latin amandula, did not have one (and nor, correspondingly, do French amande, Portuguese amendoa, Italian mandola, or German mandel). But the relative frequency of the prefix al- in Latin-derived words seems to have prompted its grafting on to amandula in its passage from Latin to Old French, giving a hypothetical *almandle and eventually al(e)mande.

French in due course dropped the l, but English acquired the word when it was still there. Going further back in time, the source of amandula was Latin amygdula, of which it was an alteration, and amygdula in turn was borrowed from the Greek word for ‘almond’, amygdálē. The Latin and Greek forms have been reborrowed into English at a much later date in various scientific terms: amygdala, for instance, an almond-shaped mass of nerve tissue in the brain; amygdalin, a glucoside found in bitter almonds; and amygdaloid, a rock with almondshaped cavities.
ambergris: ambergris: [15] The original term for ambergris (a waxy material from the stomach of the sperm whale) was amber. But as confusion began to arise between the two substances amber and ambergris, amber came to be used for both in all the languages that had borrowed it from Arabic, thus compounding the bewilderment. The French solution was to differentiate ambergris as ambre gris, literally ‘grey amber’, and this eventually became the standard English term. (Later on, the contrastive term ambre jaune ‘yellow amber’ was coined for ‘amber’ in French.) Uncertainty over the identity of the second element, -gris, has led to some fanciful reformulations of the word.

In the 17th century, many people thought ambergris came from Greece – hence spellings such as amber-degrece and amber-greece. And until comparatively recently its somewhat greasy consistency encouraged the spelling ambergrease.
=> amber
article: article: [13] Like art, arm, and arthritis, article goes back to an Indo-European root *ar-, which meant ‘put things together, join, fit’. Amongst its derivatives was Latin artus ‘joint’ (a form parallel to Greek árthron, source of arthritis), of which the diminutive was articulus ‘small joint’. This was extended metaphorically to mean ‘division, part’, and when the word first entered English, via Old French article, it was used for a particular clause of a treaty, of a contract, or specifically of the Creed.

Its application to an ‘item, thing’ is a comparatively late development, from the start of the 19th century. A Latin derivative of articulus, the verb articulāre ‘divide into joints’, hence ‘speak distinctly’, gave rise to English articulate [16].
=> arm, art, arthritis
bet: bet: [16] Since its comparatively late arrival, bet has ousted the earlier lay, wager, and game as the main term for ‘risking money on an uncertain outcome’ (gamble is later still). It is by no means clear where it came from; the usual explanation is that it is short for the noun abet, in the sense ‘instigation, encouragement, support’ – that is, one is giving one’s ‘support’ to that which one thinks, or hopes, may happen in the future (abet itself comes from the Old French verb abeter, and is related to English bait).

It first appears in Robert Greene’s Art of Cony Catching 1592, which suggests an origin in the argot of smalltime Elizabethan criminals.
=> abet, bait, bite
boot: boot: [14] Boot is a comparatively late acquisition by English. It came, either directly or via Old Norse bóti, from Old French bote, whose source is unknown. The modern British sense ‘car’s luggage compartment’ goes back to a 17thcentury term for an outside compartment for attendants on a coach, which may have come directly from modern French botte. The boot of ‘to boot’ is a completely different word. It comes from Old English bōt ‘advantage, remedy’, which can be traced back to a prehistoric Germanic base *bat-, source also of better and best.
=> best, better
brook: brook: [OE] There are two distinct words brook in English. The one meaning ‘stream’ is comparatively isolated; it apparently has relatives in other Germanic languages (such as German bruch), but they mean ‘swamp’, and there the story ends. The now rather archaic verb brook, however, meaning ‘stand for, tolerate’, can be traced right back to an Indo-European base *bhrug-, from which English also gets fruit and frugal.

Its Germanic descendant was *brūk- ‘use’, which has given rise to a range of current verbs in the Germanic languages, including German brauchen ‘use, need’. The Old English version was brūcan, which also meant ‘use’. A particular application to food (‘use’ in the sense ‘eat’, and later ‘be able to digest’) started to develop in the late Old English period, and by the 16th century this had come to be used more generally (rather like stomach) for ‘tolerate’.
=> frugal, fruit
can: can: [OE] English has two distinct words can. The verb ‘be able to’ goes back via Old English cunnan and Germanic *kunnan to an Indo- European base *gn-, which also produced know. The underlying etymological meaning of can is thus ‘know’ or more specifically ‘come to know’, which survived in English until comparatively recently (in Ben Jonson’s The Magnetick Lady 1632, for example, we find ‘She could the Bible in the holy tongue’).

This developed into ‘know how to do something’, from which we get the current ‘be able to do something’. The past tense could comes ultimately from prehistoric Germanic *kuntha, via Old English cūthe (related to English uncouth) and late Middle English coude; the l is a 16th-century intrusion, based on the model of should and would. (Canny [16] is probably a derivative of the verb can, mirroring a much earlier but parallel formation cunning.) Can ‘container’ appears to come from a prehistoric Germanic *kannōn-.
=> canny, cunning, ken, know, uncouth
cattle: cattle: [13] Ultimately, cattle is the same word as chattel [13], and when it first entered English it had the same meaning, ‘property’. From earliest times, however, it was applied specifically to livestock thought of as property. In the Middle Ages it was a wide-ranging term in animal husbandry, being used for horses, sheep, pigs, and even poultry and bees, as well as cows, and such usages survived dialectally until comparatively recently, but from the mid 16th century onwards there is increasing evidence of the word’s being restricted solely to cows.

Its ultimate source is medieval Latin capitāle ‘property’, which came to English via Old French chatel as chattel and via Anglo-Norman catel as cattle. Capitāle itself goes back to classical Latin capitālis (from caput ‘head’), from which English gets capital.
=> capital, chattel
cereal: cereal: [19] Cereal is a comparatively modern introduction of the Latin adjective cereālis ‘of grain’, which was derived from the name of Cerēs, the Roman goddess of agriculture (identified with Greek Demeter). It has, needless to say, no connection with serial (see SERIES).
churn: churn: [OE] It has been speculated that the term churn is based on the granular appearance cream takes on as it is stirred or agitated. The Old English noun cyrin comes from a prehistoric Germanic *kernjōn, which may be related to English corn and kernel and Latin grānum ‘grain’. The derived verb churn is a comparatively late creation, not appearing until the 15th century.
=> corn, grain, kernel
constable: constable: [13] The late Latin comes stabulī was an officer in charge of the stables (comes is the source of the English title count, and stabulum is the ancestor of English stable). From the comparatively lowly status of head groom, the job gradually grew in importance until Old French conestable was used for the principal officer of the household of the early French kings. In the 14th century the title was adopted for the Constable of England. On a less exalted level, the word has also been used since the 14th century for someone appointed to uphold law and order, and was applied to police officers when they were called into being in the 1830s.
=> count, stable
crow: crow: [OE] The verb crow began in prehistoric West Germanic as an imitation of the harsh call of the cockerel. Its relatives still survive in other Germanic languages, including German krähen and Dutch kraaien. Early examples of birds other than cockerels being described as ‘crowing’ are comparatively rare, but nevertheless there seems no doubt that the verb formed the basis of the name given to birds of the genus Corvus [OE]. The crowbar [19] was so named from the resemblance of its splayed end to a crow’s foot.
cygnet: cygnet: [15] A cygnet is literally a ‘small swan’. The late Old French term for ‘swan’ was cigne, and this was modified with the diminutive suffix -et, probably in Anglo-Norman, to produce *cignet, the source of the English word. Cigne, precursor of modern French cygne, strikes a familiar chord, but in fact its Latin source, cygnus, is a comparatively late development. The standard classical Latin word for ‘swan’ was cycnus, from Greek kúknos, which produced in early Old French cisne. A trace of it survives in Spanish cisne ‘swan’.
damp: damp: [14] The familiar adjectival use of damp as ‘slightly wet’ is a comparatively recent development, from the 18th century. When the word was first borrowed into English, from Middle Low German damp, it was a noun meaning ‘vapour’ (an application which survives in fire-damp). It comes ultimately from a Germanic base *thump-. The first line of semantic development taken by the word in English was of a ‘noxious exhalation’ (including gas or even smoke, not just vapour), and this is reflected in its earliest adjectival use, in the late 16th century, meaning ‘dazed’, as if affected by such harmful fumes; ‘with looks downcast and damp’, John Milton, Paradise Lost 1667.

Another contemporary sense was ‘noxious’. But the 17th century saw the noun used more and more for specifically wet turbidity: ‘mist’, or simply ‘moisture’. And this formed the basis of the present-day adjectival sense.
dictionary: dictionary: [16] The term dictionary was coined in medieval Latin, probably in the 13th century, on the basis of the Latin adjective dictionārius ‘of words’, a derivative of Latin dictiō ‘saying’, or, in medieval Latin, ‘word’. English picked it up comparatively late; the first known reference to it is in The pilgrimage of perfection 1526: ‘and so Peter Bercharius [Pierre Bercheur, a 15thcentury French lexicographer] in his dictionary describeth it’.

Latin dictiō (source also of English diction [15]) was a derivatives of the verb dicere ‘say’. Its original meaning was ‘point out’ rather than ‘utter’, as demonstrated by its derivative indicāre (source of English indicate) and words in other languages, such as Greek deiknúnai ‘show’, Sanskrit diç- ‘show’ (later ‘say’), and German zeihen ‘accuse’, which come from the same ultimate source.

Its past participle gave English dictum [16], and the derived verb dictāre ‘assert’ produced English dictate [17] and dictator [14]. It has been the basis of a wide range of other English words, from the more obvious derivatives like addict and predict to more heavily disguised offspring such as condition, index, and judge.
=> addict, condition, dictate, diction, ditto, index, indicate, judge, predict
dizzy: dizzy: [OE] Dizzy originally signified ‘foolish, stupid’, a meaning which from the 13th century retreated into dialectal use and has only comparatively recently returned to the mainstream language in the milder form ‘scatterbrained’. The now central sense ‘giddy’ is recorded from the 14th century. The word comes from a West Germanic base *dus-, which also produced Dutch duizelen ‘be giddy’. Its formal and semantic similarity to doze and tizzy are obvious, but no actual etymological link between the three seems ever to have been established.
drab: drab: [16] Drab is a variant of the now obsolete form drap, which was borrowed from Old French drap ‘cloth’ (source also of English drape, draper, and trappings). It was originally a noun meaning ‘cloth’ in English too, but the beginnings of its transition to the modern English adjective meaning ‘faded and dull’ can be seen in the 17th century.

The word came to be used particularly for natural undyed cloth, of a dull yellowish-brown colour, and hence for the colour itself (an application best preserved in the olive-drab colour of American service uniforms). The figurative development to ‘dull and faded’ is a comparatively recent one, first recorded a little over a hundred years ago.
=> drape, trappings
drill: drill: English has no fewer than four separate words drill, all of them comparatively recent acquisitions. Drill ‘make a hole’ [16] was borrowed from Middle Dutch drillen, but beyond that is history is obscure. The word’s military application, to ‘repetitive training’, dates from earliest times, and also existed in the Dutch verb in the 16th century; it seems to have originated as a metaphorical extension of the notion of ‘turning round’ – that is, of troops marching around in circles. Drill ‘small furrow for sowing seeds’ [18] may come from the now obsolete noun drill ‘rivulet’, but the origins of this are purely conjectural: some have linked it with the obsolete verb drill ‘trickle’. Drill ‘strong fabric’ [18] gets its name from originally being woven from three threads.

An earlier form of the word was drilling, an adaptation of German drillich; this in turn was descended from Latin trilix, a compound formed from tri- ‘three’ and līcium ‘thread’ (trellis is a doublet, coming ultimately from the same Latin source). (Cloth woven from two threads, incidentally, is twill [14], or alternatively – from Greek dímitos – dimity [15].) Drill ‘African baboon’ [17] comes from a West African word.

It occurs also in the compound mondrill [18], the name of a related baboon, which appears to have been formed with English man.
=> trellis; mandrill
ecstasy: ecstasy: [14] Etymologically, someone who is ecstatic is out of his or her mind. The word comes, via Old French extasie and late Latin extasis, from Greek ékstasis, a derivative of the verb existánai ‘displace, drive out of one’s mind’. This was a compound formed from the prefix ek- ‘out’ and histánai ‘place’ (a distant relative of English stand).

The underlying notion of being ‘beside oneself, in the grip of extreme passion’ survives in modern English in relation to mystic experiences or trances, and also, albeit archaically, in such phrases as ‘an ecstasy of rage’, and the specific sense ‘delight’ developed only comparatively recently, apparently in the 17th century.
=> stand
eke: eke: [12] No Old English evidence of this verb, which originally meant ‘increase’, has been found, but related forms in other Germanic languages, such as Old Norse auka and Gothic aukan, suggest that it did exist. Both these and a range of non-Germanic verbs, such as Latin augēre (source of English auction, augment, and author) and Greek aúkhein, point to an ultimate Indo-European ancestor *aug- (from which comes English wax ‘grow’).

The first syllable of nickname was originally eke. Until comparatively recently English had another word eke [OE], which meant ‘also’ (German auch and Dutch ook ‘also’ are related to it). It is not clear whether it is ultimately the same word as the verb eke.
=> auction, augment, author, nickname, wax
esplanade: esplanade: [17] Essentially, esplanade is the same word as explain, but whereas explain has lost its underlying literal meaning, esplanade has retained at least a memory of it. It comes ultimately from Latin explānāre, which meant ‘flatten out’, and so esplanade (acquired via French from the Spanish past participle esplanada) was originally simply a ‘large level area’. Its application to the ‘promenade’ at seaside towns is a comparatively recent development.
=> explain
excite: excite: [14] The use of the word excite to convey ‘agitated elation’ is a comparatively recent development, first recorded from the mid 19th century. Before that it was a fairly neutral verb, meaning ‘produce a response, provoke’ (as in the rather formal ‘excite much comment’). It comes, perhaps via Old French exciter, from Latin excitāre ‘call forth, arouse, produce’. This was a variant of exciēre, a compound verb formed from the prefix ex- ‘out’ and ciēre ‘move, call’ (source also of English cite, incite, recite, and solicit).
=> cite, incite, recite, solicit
explode: explode: [16] The use of explode to mean ‘burst with destructive force’ is a comparatively recent, late 19th-century development. The Latin verb explōdere, from which it comes, signified something quite different – ‘drive off the stage with hisses and boos’ (it was a compound formed from the prefix ex- ‘out’ and plaudere ‘clap’, source of English applaud and plaudits).

From this developed the figurative sense ‘reject, disapprove’, which was how the word was used when it was first taken over into English: ‘Not that I wholly explode Astrology; I believe there is something in it’, Thomas Tryon, Miscellanea 1696 (the modern notion of ‘exploding a theory’ is descended from this usage). In the 17th century, however, the Latin verb’s original sense was reintroduced, and it survived into the 19th century: ‘In the playhouse when he doth wrong, no critic is so apt to hiss and explode him’, Henry Fielding, Tom Jones 1749.

Towards the end of the 17th century we find the first traces of a metaphorical use that combines the notion of ‘driving out, expelling’ with ‘loud noise’ (‘the effects of Lightning, exploded from the Clouds’, Robert Plot, Natural History of Staffordshire 1679), but it was not to be for more than a century that the meaning element ‘drive out’ was replaced by the ‘burst, shatter’ of present-day English explode (Dr Johnson makes no mention of it in his Dictionary 1755, for example) Today the notion of ‘bursting violently’ is primary, that of ‘loud noise’ probably secondary, although still present.
=> applause, plaudits
fake: fake: [19] The use of fake for ‘produce a fraudulent copy of’ is a comparatively recent development. It used to mean ‘do up something spurious to make it seem genuine’, and in this sense seems to be a descendant of the longobsolete verb feague [16]. Essentially it is a piece of underworld slang, and as such has a rather slippery semantic history. In the 19th century it was used, like its ancestor feague, for any number of nefarious operations, including beating up and killing (‘to fake a man out and out, is to kill him’, J H Vaux, Vocabulary of the Flash Language 1812), but its current sense leads back in a straight line to its probable ultimate source, German fegen ‘polish, refurbish’.

This (like English fig ‘clothes, array’) was a derivative of the prehistoric Germanic base *feg-, a variant of *fag-, from which English gets fair ‘beautiful’.
=> fair, feast, fig
fear: fear: [OE] ‘Being frightened’ seems to be a comparatively recent development in the semantic history of the word fear. In Old English times the verb meant ‘be afraid’, but the noun meant ‘sudden terrible event, danger’, and it did not develop its modern sense – possibly under the influence of the verb – until the 13th century (the Old English nouns for ‘fear’ were ege and fyrhto, source of modern English fright).

Related words, such as German gefahr and Dutch gevaar, both meaning ‘danger’, confirm that this is the earlier sense (as would Latin perīculum ‘danger’ – source of English peril – if, as has been suggested, it too is connected). Taking the search wider, possible links with Latin perītus ‘experienced’, Greek peráō ‘go through’, and English fare ‘go’ point to an underlying meaning ‘what one undergoes, experience’.
=> peril
federal: federal: [17] The modern political use of federal and its various derivatives is a comparatively recent development, ushered in by the formation of the USA in the late 18th century. Its original meaning was ‘of a league or treaty’ (it was formed from Latin foedus ‘league, treaty’, which came from the same ultimate Indo-European base – *bhidh-, *bhoidh- – as faith), and its application to a ‘joining together of states into a single unit’ seems to have arisen from such phrases as federal union, which would originally have meant ‘union by treaty’.
=> confide, defy, faith, perfidy
female: female: [14] The symmetry between female and male is a comparatively recent development. Female started as Latin fēmella, a diminutive form of fēmina ‘woman’ (whence English feminine [14]). This in turn was a derivative of Latin fēlāre ‘suck’, and so etymologically signified ‘person from whom milk is sucked’ (it came ultimately from the Indo-European base *dhēi-, which also produced Latin filia ‘daughter’ and filia ‘son’, source of English filial [15]). Fēmella passed into English via Old French femelle as femele, but as early as the end of the 14th century began to change, by association with male, to female.
=> feminine, filial
genius: genius: [16] Latin genius originally meant ‘deity of generation and birth’. It came ultimately from the Indo-European base *gen- ‘produce’ (source of English gene, generate, genitive, etc), probably via a derivative *gnjos. It broadened out considerably in meaning, initially to ‘attendant spirit’, the sense in which English originally acquired it (French took it over as génie, a word which, because of its phonetic and semantic similarity to Arabic jinn, 18th-century translators of the Arabian nights eagerly adopted into English as genie).

The main modern English sense, ‘person of outstanding intellectual ability’, which dates from the 17th century, goes back to a comparatively rare Latin ‘intellectual capacity’. Genial [16] comes from Latin geniālis, a derivative of genius, which again originally meant ‘of generation and birth’ (a sense which survived into English: ‘And thou, glad Genius! in whose gentle hand the bridal bower and genial bed remain’, Edmund Spenser, Epithalamion 1595).

It later developed in Latin to ‘pleasant, festive’.
=> general
get: get: [13] Get, now one of the most pervasive of English words, has only been in the language for the (comparatively) short period of 800 years. It was borrowed from Old Norse geta (although a related, hundred-per-cent English -get, which occurs in beget and forget, dates back to Old English times). Both come via a prehistoric Germanic *getan from Indo-European *ghed-, which signified ‘seize’ (guess is ultimately from the same source). Gotten is often quoted as an American survival of a primeval past participle since abandoned by British English, but in fact the original past participle of got was getten, which lasted into the 16th century; gotten was a Middle English innovation, based on such models as spoken and stolen. Got originated as an abbreviated form of gotten, which in due course came to be used, on both sides of the Atlantic, as the past tense of the verb (replacing the original gat).
=> beget, forget, guess
googol: googol: [20] There are comparatively few ‘new’ words in the English language – that is, words which have not been made up from combinations of old words, or borrowed from other languages, but have sprung up as entirely new growths – but this is one of them. When in the 1930s the American mathematician Dr Edward Kasner was trying to think of a name for an unimaginably large number, ten to the power of a hundred, he asked his nine-year-old nephew Milton Serotta for a suggestion, and googol was what he got. It has never really caught on in technical use, although it has spawned a compound of its own – the googolplex, ten to the power of a googol.
grey: grey: [OE] Grey is an ancient colour term, traceable back all the way to a prehistoric Indo- European *ghrēghwos. From this was descended West and North Germanic *grǣwaz, which produced German grau, Dutch grauw, Swedish grå, and Danish graa as well as English grey. The distinction in spelling between British grey and American gray is a comparatively recent one. Dr Johnson in his Dictionary 1755 gave gray as the main form, and even into the early 20th century it was still quite common in Britain (The Times used it, for instance). Nor is grey by any means unknown in America.
happen: happen: [14] Surprisingly for such a common verb, happen is a comparatively recent addition to the English language. Old English had a number of verbs denoting ‘occurrence’, all long since defunct, including gelimpan and gescēon, and in the 13th century befall began to be used for ‘happen’, but the first signs we see of the coming of happen are when English acquired the noun hap ‘chance, luck’ in the 13th century.

It was borrowed from Old Norse happ, a word of uncertain ancestry but probably related to Old Slavic kobu ‘fate’ and Old Irish cob ‘victory’, and represented in Old English by gehæp ‘fit’. In the 14th century it began to be used as a verb meaning ‘happen by chance’, and hence simply ‘happen’, and before the century was very old it had been extended with the verbal suffix -en to happen.
=> happy, perhaps
harlot: harlot: [13] The use of harlot for ‘prostitute’ is a comparatively recent development in the word’s history. It originally meant ‘tramp, beggar’, and did not come to mean ‘prostitute’ until the 15th century. It was borrowed from Old French harlot or herlot ‘vagabond’, a word of unknown ancestry with relatives in Italian (arlotto) and Provençal (arlot).
his: his: [OE] His originated as the standard genitive form of the masculine personal pronoun he, with the genitive ending -s – what in modern English would be expressed as of him. But comparatively early in the Old English period it began to replace the ancestral third person possessive adjective sīn (a relative of modern German sein ‘his’), and by the year 1000 it was also being used as a possessive pronoun, as in ‘It’s his’.
=> he
inferno: inferno: [19] Etymologically, an inferno is that which is ‘below’. The word comes ultimately from Latin infernus, meaning ‘situated below, subterranean’. In ancient mythology, the nether regions were the abode of the dead, so inferna came to be used as the equivalent of Dis, and the Greek Hades. In Jewish and Christian belief, this basement area was the realm of evil spirits, and consequently in late Latin infernus came to cover much the same semantic ground as English hell.

In Italian this became inferno, and English adopted it (strongly under the influence of the Inferno of Dante’s Divine Comedy) in that form in the early 19th century. Its metaphorical use for ‘intense heat’, inspired by the stereotypical flames of hell, is a comparatively recent development. Meanwhile the related infernal [14] (from late Latin infernalis) had long since taken up residence in English, and by the 18th century was being used as an expletive (as in ‘their infernal cheek’).
ingredient: ingredient: [15] The -gredi- of ingredient represents the Latin verb gradī ‘step, go’ (whose past participial stem gress- has given English aggression, congress, digress, etc). From it was formed ingredī ‘go in, enter’, whose present participle ingrediēns became English ingredient. The word’s etymological meaning is thus ‘that which “enters into” a mixture’. It was originally used mainly with reference to medicines, and its current application to food recipes seems to be a comparatively recent development.
=> aggression, congress, grade, gradual
it: it: [OE] It (or hit, as it was in Old English) comes ultimately from the same prehistoric Germanic demonstrative stem form. *khi-, as produced he. The possessive form its is a comparatively recent development, dating from the end of the 16th century; until then, his was used for ‘its’.
=> he
liable: liable: [15] Today’s main meaning of liable, ‘likely to’, is a comparatively recent development. Its primary sense is ‘legally bound or obliged’ (as in ‘liable for someone else’s debts’), which goes right back to the word’s ultimate source, Latin ligāre ‘tie’. Its Old French descendant lier is assumed to have give rise to an Anglo-Norman derivative *liable, literally ‘bindable’, which English took over.

Other English words that come ultimately from ligāre include ally, liaison [17], lien [16] (etymologically a ‘bond’), ligament [14], ligature [14], oblige, religion, and rely.
=> ally, liaison, lien, ligament, ligature, oblige, religion, rely
minstrel: minstrel: [13] Originally minstrel, like its close relative minister, denoted a ‘servant’. Its musical associations are a comparatively recent development. It goes back ultimately to late Latin ministeriālis ‘official’, a derivative of Latin ministerium (source of English ministry). Old French took it over as menestral, and it was here that a gradual specialization in meaning took place, from ‘servant’ via ‘entertainer’ to ‘singer’.
=> minister
miss: miss: English has two words miss. The one used as a title for an unmarried woman [17], which originated as a shortened form of mistress (see MASTER), is a comparatively recent introduction, but the verb miss [OE] has a much longer history. It comes from a prehistoric Germanic *missjan (source of German and Dutch missen, Swedish mista, and Danish miste), which was derived from the base *missa- ‘wrongly, amiss’ (ancestor of the English prefix mis-).
=> master
mummy: mummy: English has two words mummy. The one meaning ‘mother’ [19], although not recorded in print until comparatively recently, is one of a range of colloquial ‘mother’-words, such as mama and mammy, that go back ultimately to the syllable ma, imitative of a suckling baby (see MAMMAL and MOTHER), and was probably common in dialect speech much earlier. The 19th century saw its adoption into the general language.

The abbreviation mum [19] has a parallel history. The Egyptian mummy [14] comes ultimately from Arabic mūmiyā ‘embalmed body’, a derivative of mūm ‘embalming wax’, but when it first arrived in English (via medieval Latin mumia and Old French mumie) it was used for a ‘medicinal ointment prepared from mummified bodies’ (‘Take myrrh, sarcocol [a gum-resin], and mummy … and lay it on the nucha [spinal cord]’, Lanfranc’s Science of Cirurgie, c. 1400).

The word’s original sense ‘embalmed body’ did not emerge in English until the early 17th century.
=> mama, mammy
neat: neat: English has two words neat. The older is now virtually obsolete, while the commoner is a comparatively recent introduction. Neat ‘tidy’ [16] was borrowed from French net ‘neat, clean’. This goes back to Latin nitidus ‘elegant, shiny’, a derivative of the verb nītēre ‘shine’. English originally acquired the word in the 14th century as net ‘clean, tidy’ (from which the modern net ‘with deductions’ developed).

This had a 16thcentury derivative netty, which may be the source of modern English natty [18]. Neat ‘cow, ox’ [OE] is now encountered only in gastronomic contexts, such as ‘neat’s foot jelly’, and even then is an archaism. It goes back to prehistoric Germanic *nautam, a derivative of a base meaning ‘use’, and hence reflects (like cattle itself) the original notion of cattle as ‘useful property’.
=> natty, net
ought: ought: [OE] Ought began life as the past tense of owe, but the two have diverged widely over the centuries. The Old English ancestor of owe was āgan, and its past form was āhte. This originally shared all the meanings of its parent verb, of course, and continued to do so well into the 17th century (‘He said this other day, you ought him a thousand pound’, Shakespeare, 1 Henry IV 1596). Indeed, it survived dialectally until comparatively recently. But steadily since the 1600s its role as a quasi-modal auxiliary verb, denoting ‘obligation’, has come to the fore.
=> owe
philistine: philistine: [16] The original Philistines were inhabitants of Philistia, an area in the southwestern corner of ancient Palestine. They were famed for their aggression and harrying tactics, and so the word Philistine was often used metaphorically for an ‘enemy into whose hands one might fall’, but the notion of a Philistine as a ‘boorish person’ is a comparatively recent development, not recorded in English until the 19th century.

It appears to have originated in German universities (the German term is Philister), and the story goes that it comes from the use of the biblical quotation ‘the Philistines be upon thee, Samson’ as the text of a sermon delivered at the funeral service for a student killed in a town-and-gown riot in Jena.
protest: protest: [14] The noun protest comes from early modern French protest, a derivative of the verb protester, which goes back to Latin prōtestārī ‘make a public declaration’. This was a compound verb formed from the prefix prō- ‘out, in public’ and testārī ‘declare, bear witness’ (source of or related to English attest, contest, detest, testament, testify, etc).

The notion of ‘making an objection’ is a comparatively late development in the word’s semantic history. Protestant [16], which comes from the Latin present participle, originated in 1529 as a term for those Germans who dissented from the decree of the Diet of Spires, an assembly of the estates of the Holy Roman Empire, which called for obedience to Rome. It was first used in English in 1539, and within a few years had broadened out in application to denote anyone dissenting from Roman Catholicism.
=> attest, contest, detest, testament, testicle, testify
reduce: reduce: [14] ‘Lessen, diminish’ is a comparatively recent semantic development for reduce. Its Latin ancestor was certainly not used in that sense. This was redūcere, a compound verb formed from the prefix re- ‘back, again’ and dūcere ‘lead, bring’ (source of English duct, duke, educate, etc). It meant literally ‘bring back’, hence ‘restore’ and also ‘withdraw’.

The original ‘bring back’ made the journey to English, and even survived into the early 17th century (‘reducing often to my memory the conceit of that Roman stoic’, Sir Henry Wotton, Elements of Architecture 1624). The sense ‘lessen, diminish’ seems to be the result of a semantic progression from ‘bring back to a particular condition’ via ‘bring back to order’ and ‘bring to subjection’.
=> duct, duke, educate, introduce, produce, redoubt
salvage: salvage: [17] The salvage of a ship is etymologically simply a payment made for ‘saving’ it. The word comes via Old French salvage from medieval Latin salvāgium, a derivative of late Latin salvāre ‘save’ (source of English save). The use of English salvage as a verb is a comparatively recent development, dating from the 1880s.
=> save
sentence: sentence: [13] ‘Complete grammatical unit’ is a comparatively recent meaning of sentence, which only emerged in English in the 15th century. Its Latin ancestor sententia originally meant ‘feeling’, for it was a derivative of sentīre ‘feel’ (source also of English sense, sentiment, etc). It subsequently broadened out to ‘opinion, judgment’, which was the starting point for the use of English sentence for ‘judicial declaration of punishment’. Sententia also came to denote ‘meaning’, and hence ‘meaning expressed in words’ and ‘maxim’.

The former lies behind the grammatical sense of English sentence, while the latter survives in the derived adjective sententious [15].
=> sense, sententious
sergeant: sergeant: [12] A sergeant is etymologically simply a ‘servant’ – and indeed that is what the word originally meant in English. It comes via Old French sergent from Latin servient-, the present participial stem of servīre ‘serve’. It was subsequently incorporated into the terminology of the feudal system, roughly equivalent in application to esquire, and it was also used for various legal officers, but it does not seem to have become a specific military rank until the mid 16th century. ‘Sergeant’ then was a comparatively exalted position, but by the end of the century we see it settling into its modern niche as a senior noncommissioned officer.
=> servant, serve