acrossyoudaoicibaDictYouDict[across 词源字典]
across: [13] English originally borrowed across, or the idea for it, from Old French. French had the phrase à croix or en croix, literally ‘at or in cross’, that is, ‘in the form of a cross’ or ‘transversely’. This was borrowed into Middle English as a creoix or o(n) croice, and it was not until the 15th century that versions based on the native English form of the word cross began to appear: in cross, on cross, and the eventual winner, across.
=> cross[across etymology, across origin, 英语词源]
addledyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
addled: [13] Addled may be traceable back ultimately to a confusion between ‘wind’ and ‘urine’ in Latin. In Middle English the term was adel eye ‘addled egg’. of which the first part derived from Old English adela ‘foul-smelling urine or liquid manure’. It seems possible that this may be a loan-translation of the Latin term for ‘addled egg’, ōvum ūrīnae, literally ‘urine egg’. This in turn was an alteration, by folk etymology, of ōvum ūrīnum, a partial loantranslation of Greek oúrion ōón, literally ‘wind egg’ (a wind egg is an imperfect or addled egg).
admonishyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
admonish: [14] In Middle English times this verb was amoneste. It came, via Old French amonester, from an assumed Vulgar Latin verb *admonestāre, an alteration of Latin admonēre (monēre meant ‘warn’, and came from the same source as English mind). The prefix ad- was reintroduced from Latin in the 15th century, while the -ish ending arose from a mistaken analysis of -este as some sort of past tense inflection; the t was removed when producing infinitive or present tense forms, giving spellings such as amonace and admonyss, and by the 16th century this final -is had become identified with and transformed into the more common -ish ending.
=> mind
adventureyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
adventure: [13] Adventure derives ultimately from a Latin verb meaning ‘arrive’. It originally meant ‘what comes or happens by chance’, hence ‘luck’, but it took a rather pessimistic downturn via ‘risk, danger’ to (in the 14th century) ‘hazardous undertaking’. Its Latin source was advenīre, formed from the prefix adand venīre ‘come’. Its past participle stem, advent-, produced English advent [12] and adventitious [17], but it was its future participle, adventura ‘about to arrive’, which produced adventure.

In the Romance languages in which it subsequently developed (Italian avventura, Spanish aventura, and French aventure, the source of Middle English aventure) the d disappeared, but it was revived in 15th – 16thcentury French in imitation of Latin. The reduced form venture first appears in the 15th century.

=> adventitious, avent, venture
affordyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
afford: [OE] This verb originally meant ‘accomplish, fulfil’. In Old English times it was geforthian, formed from the prefix ge-, denoting completion of an action, and forthian ‘advance towards completion’ or literally ‘further’ (from the adverb forth). The notion of accomplishing something or managing something gradually led, by the 15th century, to the idea of being able to do something because one has enough money.

Meanwhile, the original ge- prefix, which by Middle English times had become i- (iforthien), had been transformed into af- under the influence of the many Latin-based words beginning in aff-, and in the 16th century spellings with final d in place of th start to appear.

=> forth
agoyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
ago: [14] Historically, ago is the past participle of a verb. Its earlier, Middle English, form – agone – reveals its origins more clearly. It comes from the Old English verb āgān ‘pass away’, which was formed from gān ‘go’ and the prefix ā- ‘away, out’. At first it was used before expressions of time (‘For it was ago five year that he was last there’, Guy of Warwick 1314), but this was soon superseded by the now current postnominal use.
=> go
agueyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
ague: [14] In its origins, ague is the same word as acute. It comes from the Latin phrase febris acuta ‘sharp fever’ (which found its way into Middle English as fever agu). In the Middle Ages the Latin adjective acuta came to be used on its own as a noun meaning ‘fever’; this became aguē in medieval French, from which it was borrowed into English. From the end of the 14th century ague was used for ‘malaria’ (the word malaria itself did not enter the language until the mid 18th century).
=> acute
aisleyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
aisle: [15] The original English form of this word was ele. It was borrowed from Old French, which in turn took it from Latin āla ‘wing’ (the modern French form of the word, aile, has a diminutive form, aileron ‘movable control surface on an aircraft’s wing’ [20], which has been acquired by English). Besides meaning literally ‘bird’s wing’, āla was used metaphorically for ‘wing of a building’, which was the source of its original meaning in English, the ‘sides of the nave of a church’.

The Latin word comes from an unrecorded *acsla, which is one of a complex web of ‘turning’ words that include Latin axis, Greek axon ‘axis’, Latin axilla ‘armpit’ (whence English axillary and axil), and English axle. The notion of an aisle as a detached, separate part of a building led to an association with isle and island which eventually affected Middle English ele’s spelling.

From the 16th to the 18th century the word was usually spelled ile or isle. A further complication entered the picture in the 18th century in the form of French aile, which took the spelling on to today’s settled form, aisle.

=> aileron, axis
ajaryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
ajar: [16] Ajar comes from Scotland and Northern England. In Middle English times it was a char or on char, literally ‘on turn’ (char comes from an Old English word cerr ‘turn’, which in its metaphorical sense ‘turn of work’ has given modern English charwoman and chore). A door or window that was in the act of turning was therefore neither completely shut nor completely open. The first spellings with j occur in the 18th century.
=> char, charwoman
alienyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
alien: [14] The essential notion contained in alien is of ‘otherness’. Its ultimate source is Latin alius ‘other’ (which is related to English else). From this was formed a Latin adjective aliēnus ‘belonging to another person or place’, which passed into English via Old French alien. In Middle English an alternative version alient arose (in the same way as ancient, pageant, and tyrant came from earlier ancien, pagin, and tyran), but this died out during the 17th century.

The verb alienate ‘estrange’ or ‘transfer to another’s ownership’ entered the language in the mid 16th century, eventually replacing an earlier verb alien (source of alienable and inalienable).

=> alibi, else
alikeyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
alike: [OE] Alike is an ancient word whose ultimate Germanic source, *galīkam, meant something like ‘associated form’ (*līkam ‘form, body’ produced German leiche ‘corpse’ and Old English lic, from which we get lychgate, the churchyard gate through which a funeral procession passes; and the collective prefix *gameant literally ‘with’ or ‘together’).

In Old English, *galīkam had become gelīc, which developed into Middle English ilik; and from the 14th century onwards the prefix i-, which was becoming progressively rarer in English, was assimilated to the more familiar a-. The verb like is indirectly related to alike, and the adjective, adverb, preposition, and conjunction like was formed directly from it, with the elimination of the prefix.

=> each, like
almsyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
alms: [OE] The word alms has become much reduced in its passage through time from its ultimate Greek source, eleēmosúnē ‘pity, alms’. This was borrowed into post-classical (Christian) Latin as eleēmosyna, which subsequently became simplified in Vulgar Latin to *alimosina (source of the word for ‘alms’ in many Romance languages, such as French aumône and Italian limosina).

At this stage Germanic borrowed it, and in due course dispersed it (German almosen, Dutch aalmoes). It entered Old English as ælmesse, which became reduced in Middle English to almes and finally by the 17th century to alms (which because of its -s had come to be regarded as a plural noun). The original Greek eleēmosúnē is itself a derivative, of the adjective eleémōn ‘compassionate’, which in turn came from the noun éleos ‘pity’.

From medieval Latin eleēmosyna was derived the adjective eleēmosynarius (borrowed into English in the 17th century as the almost unpronounceable eleemosynary ‘giving alms’). Used as a noun, this passed into Old French as a(u)lmonier, and eventually, in the 13th century, became English aumoner ‘giver of alms’. The modern sense of almoner as a hospital social worker did not develop until the end of the 19th century.

=> almoner, eleemosynary
aloudyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
aloud: [14] Aloud was formed in Middle English from the adjective loud and the prefix a-, as in abroad; it does not appear to have had a direct Old English antecedent *on loud. Its opposite, alow ‘quietly’, did not survive the 15th century.
=> loud
altaryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
altar: [OE] The etymological notion underlying the word altar is that of sacrificial burning. Latin altar, which was borrowed directly into Old English, was a derivative of the plural noun altāria, ‘burnt offerings’, which probably came from the verb adolēre ‘burn up’. Adolēre in turn appears to be a derivative of olēre ‘smell’ (the connection being the smell made by combustion), which is related to English odour, olfactory, and redolent. (The traditional view that altar derives from Latin altus ‘high’ is no longer generally accepted, although no doubt it played a part, by association, in its development.) In Middle English, the Old French form auter replaced altar, but in the 16th century the Latin form re-established itself.
=> odour, olfactory, redolent
ambassadoryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
ambassador: [14] Appropriately enough, ambassador is a highly cosmopolitan word. It was borrowed back and forth among several European languages before arriving in English. Its ultimate source appears to be the Indo- European root *ag- ‘drive, lead’, whose other numerous offspring include English act and agent. With the addition of the prefix *amb- ‘around’ (as in ambidextrous), this produced in the Celtic languages of Gaul the noun ambactos, which was borrowed by Latin as ambactus ‘vassal’.

The Latin word then found its way into the Germanic languages – Old English had ambeht ‘servant, messenger’, Old High German ambaht (from which modern German gets amt ‘official position’) – from which it was later borrowed back into medieval Latin as ambactia. This seems to have formed the basis of a verb, *ambactiāre ‘go on a mission’ (from which English ultimately gets embassy), from which in turn was derived the noun *ambactiātor.

This became ambasciator in Old Italian, from which Old French borrowed it as ambassadeur. The word had a be wildering array of spellings in Middle English (such as ambaxadour and inbassetour) before finally settling down as ambassador in the 16th century.

=> embassy
ancestoryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
ancestor: [13] Ultimately, ancestor is the same word as antecedent [14]: both come from the Latin compound verb antecēdere ‘precede’, formed from the prefix ante- ‘before’ and the verb cēdere ‘go’ (source of English cede and a host of related words, such as proceed and access). Derived from this was the agent noun antecessor ‘one who precedes’, which was borrowed into Old French at two distinct times: first as ancessour, and later as ancestre, which subsequently developed to ancêtre. Middle English had examples of all three of these forms. The modern spelling, ancestor, developed in the 16th century.
=> access, antecedent, cede, precede, proceed
antyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
ant: [OE] The word ant appears to carry the etymological sense ‘creature that cuts off or bites off’. Its Old English form, æmette, was derived from a hypothetical Germanic compound *aimaitjōn, formed from the prefix *ai- ‘off, away’ and the root *mait- ‘cut’ (modern German has the verb meissen ‘chisel, carve’): thus, ‘the biter’.

The Old English word later developed along two distinct strands: in one, it became emmet, which survived into the 20th century as a dialectal form; while in the other it progressed through amete and ampte to modern English ant. If the notion of ‘biting’ in the naming of the ant is restricted to the Germanic languages (German has ameise), the observation that it and its nest smell of urine has been brought into play far more widely.

The Indo-European root *meigh-, from which ultimately we get micturate ‘urinate’ [18], was also the source of several words for ‘ant’, including Greek múrmēx (origin of English myrmecology ‘study of ants’, and also perhaps of myrmidon [14] ‘faithful follower’, from the Myrmidons, a legendary Greek people who loyally followed their king Achilles in the Trojan war, and who were said originally to have been created from ants), Latin formīca (hence English formic acid [18], produced by ants, and formaldehyde [19]), and Danish myre.

It also produced Middle English mire ‘ant’, the underlying meaning of which was subsequently reinforced by the addition of piss to give pismire, which again survived dialectally into the 20th century.

anyyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
any: [OE] Any is descended from a prehistoric Germanic compound meaning literally ‘one-y’ (a formation duplicated in unique, whose Latin source ūnicus was compounded of ūnus ‘one’ and the adjective suffix -icus). Germanic *ainigaz was formed from *ain- (source of English one) and the stem *-ig-, from which the English adjective suffix -y is ultimately derived. In Old English this had become ǣnig, which diversified in Middle English to any and eny; modern English any preserves the spelling of the former and the pronunciation of the latter.
=> one
apronyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
apron: [14] As in the case of adder, umpire, and many others, apron arose from a mistaken analysis of the combination ‘indefinite article + noun’. The original Middle English word was napron, but as early as the 15th century a napron had turned into an apron. Napron itself had been borrowed from Old French naperon, a derivative of nape ‘cloth’ (source of English napery and napkin); and nape came from Latin mappa ‘napkin, towel’ (source of English map).
=> map, mat, napkin
archetypeyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
archetype: [17] Archetype comes, via Latin archetypum, from Greek arkhétupon, a nominal use of the adjective arkhétupos, literally ‘firstmoulded’, from túpos ‘mould, model, type’. The Greek prefix arkhe- was based on the noun arkhos ‘chief, ruler’, a derivative of the verb arkhein ‘begin, rule’ (see ARCHIVES). It first entered our language (via Latin archi-) in the Old English period, as arce- (archbishop was an early compound formed with it); and it was reborrowed in the Middle English period from Old French arche-.

Its use has gradually extended from ‘highest in status’ and ‘first of its kind’ to ‘the ultimate – and usually the worst – of its kind’, as in archcraitor. Its negative connotations lie behind its eventual development, in the 17th century, into an independent adjective, first as ‘cunning, crafty’, later as ‘saucy, mischievous’. The same Greek root has provided English with the suffixes -arch and -archy (as in monarch, oligarchy); but here the original meaning of ‘ruling’ has been preserved much more stably.

=> archaic, archives
ariseyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
arise: [OE] Arise is a compound verb with cognate forms in many other Germanic languages (Gothic, for instance, had urreisan). The prefix a- originally meant ‘away, out’, and hence was used as an intensive; rise comes from an unidentified Germanic source which some etymologists have connected with Latin rīvus ‘stream’ (source of English rivulet), on the basis of the notion of a stream ‘rising’ from a particular source.

The compound arise was in fact far commoner than the simple form rise in the Old English period, and it was only in early Middle English that rise began to take its place. This happened first in northern dialects, and may have been precipitated by Old Norse rísa. Today, it is only in the sense ‘come into existence’ that arise is commoner.

=> raise, rear, rise, rivulet
aroundyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
around: [14] Around was formed in Middle English from the prefix a- ‘on’ and the noun round (perhaps influenced by the Old French phrase a la reonde ‘in the round, roundabout’). It was slow to usurp existing forms such as about – it does not occur in Shakespeare or the 1611 translation of the Bible – and it does not seem to have become strongly established before the end of the 17th century. The adverb and preposition round may be a shortening of around.
=> round
arriveyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
arrive: [13] When speakers of early Middle English ‘arrived’, what they were literally doing was coming to shore after a voyage. For arrive was originally a Vulgar Latin compound verb based on the Latin noun rīpa ‘shore, river bank’ (as in the English technical term riparian ‘of a river bank’; and river comes from the same source). From the phrase ad rīpam ‘to the shore’ came the verb *arripāre ‘come to land’, which passed into English via Old French ariver. It does not seem to have been until the early 14th century that the more general sense of ‘reaching a destination’ started to establish itself in English.
=> riparian, river
arseyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
arse: [OE] Arse is a word of considerable antiquity, and its relatives are found practically from end to end of the geographical range of the Indo-European language family, from Old Irish err ‘tail’ in the west to Armenian or ‘rump’. Its Indo-European source was *órsos, which produced the Germanic form *arsaz: hence German arsch, Dutch aars, and, via Old English ærs, English arse.

The euphemistic American spelling ass appears to be as recent as the 1930s, although there is one isolated (British) record of it from 1860. The term wheatear, for a thrushlike European bird, is an alteration over time of a Middle English epithet ‘white arse’, after its white rump feathers.

asideyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
aside: [14] Aside is a reduced form of the Middle English phrase on syde, literally ‘on side’, meaning ‘to one side’.
=> side
astoundyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
astound: [17] Astound, astonish, and stun all come ultimately from the same origin: a Vulgar Latin verb *extonāre, which literally meant something like ‘leave someone thunderstruck’ (it was formed from the Latin verb tonāre ‘thunder’). This became Old French estoner, which had three offshoots in English: it was borrowed into Middle English in the 13th century as astone or astun, and immediately lost its initial a, producing a form stun; then in the 15th century, in Scotland originally, it had the suffix -ish grafted on to it, producing astonish; and finally in the 17th century its past participle, astoned or, as it was also spelled, astound, formed the basis of a new verb.
=> astonish, stun
aweyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
awe: [13] Old English had the word ege, meaning ‘awe’, but modern English awe is a Scandinavian borrowing; the related Old Norse agi steadily infiltrated the language from the northeast southwards during the Middle Ages. Agi came, like ege, from a hypothetical Germanic form *agon, which in turn goes back to an Indo-European base *agh- (whence also Greek ákhos ‘pain’). The guttural g sound of the 13th-century English word (technically a voiced velar spirant) was changed to w during the Middle English period. This was a general change, but it is not always reflected in spelling – as in owe and ought, for instance, which were originally the same word.
awkwardyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
awkward: [14] When awkward was coined, in Scotland and northern England, it meant ‘turned in the wrong direction’. Middle English had an adjective awk, which meant ‘the wrong way round, backhanded’, and hence ‘perverse’, and with the addition of the suffix -ward this became awkward. Awk itself was adopted from Old Norse afugr, which is related to German ab ‘away’ and English off. Awkward followed a similar semantic path to awk, via ‘perverse, illadapted’ to ‘clumsy’.
=> off
badgeryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
badger: [16] The Old English term for a ‘badger’ was brock, a word of Celtic origin, and badger does not begin to appear, somewhat mysteriously, until the early 16th century. The name has never been satisfactorily explained, but perhaps the least implausible explanation is from the word badge, in reference to the white stripes on the animal’s forehead, as if it were wearing a badge (a term originally applied to a distinctive device worn by a knight for purposes of recognition); the early spelling bageard suggests that it may have been formed with the suffix -ard, as in dullard and sluggard. (Badge itself is of even more obscure origin; it first turns up in Middle English, in the mid 14th century.) Other early terms for the badger were bauson (14th– 18th centuries), from Old French bausen, and grey (15th–17th centuries).
baldyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bald: [14] In Middle English times, bald was ballede, which suggests that it may have been a compound formed in Old English with the suffix -ede ‘characterized by, having’. It has been conjectured that the first element in the compound was Old English *ball-, meaning ‘white patch’ or ‘blaze’ on an animal’s head; this may be supported by isolated examples of the use of the adjective to mean (of a horse) ‘whitefaced’ from the 16th to the 18th centuries, and by the obsolete dialectal ball meaning both ‘white patch on the head’ and ‘white-faced horse’.

This would have produced the Old English adjective *bællede or *beallede, which, from ‘having a white blaze’, progressed naturally in meaning to ‘hairless’. The compounds piebald [16] and skewbald [17] are both based on bald: piebald means ‘having black and white patches like a magpie’, while skewbald may be based on Middle English skew ‘(cloudy) skies’ or on Old French escu ‘shield’.

=> piebald, skewbald
banyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
ban: [OE] Ban is one of a widespread group of words in the European languages. Its ultimate source is the Indo-European base *bha-, which also gave English fame (from a derivative of Latin fārī ‘speak’) and phase (from Greek phāsis). The Germanic offshoot of the Indo- European base, and source of the English word, was *bannan, which originally probably meant simply ‘speak, proclaim’.

This gradually developed through ‘proclaim with threats’ to ‘put a curse on’, but the sense ‘prohibit’ does not seem to have arisen until as late as the 19th century. The Germanic base *bann- was borrowed into Old French as the noun ban ‘proclamation’. From there it crossed into English and probably mingled with the cognate English noun, Middle English iban (the descendant of Old English gebann).

It survives today in the plural form banns ‘proclamation of marriage’. The adjective derived from Old French ban was banal, acquired by English in the 18th century. It originally meant ‘of compulsory military service’ (from the word’s basic sense of ‘summoning by proclamation’); this was gradually generalized through ‘open to everyone’ to ‘commonplace’.

=> banal, bandit, banish, contraband, fame, phase
bastardyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bastard: [13] The idea underlying the word bastard appears to be that of a child born of an impromptu sexual encounter on an improvised bed, for it seems to echo Old French fils de bast, literally ‘packsaddle son’, that is, one conceived on a packsaddle pillow. If this is the case, the word goes back to medieval Latin bastum ‘packsaddle’, whose ultimate source was Greek bastázein ‘carry’; this passed via Old French bast, later bat, into late Middle English as bat, which now survives only in batman [18].

The derived form is first found in medieval Latin as bastardus, and this reached English via Old French bastard. Its modern usage as a general term of abuse dates from the early 19th century.

=> batman
batyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bat: Bat as in ‘cricket bat’ [OE] and bat the animal [16] come from entirely different sources. Bat the wooden implement first appears in late Old English as batt ‘cudgel’, but it is not clear where it ultimately came from. Some have postulated a Celtic source, citing Gaulish andabata ‘gladiator’, which may be related to English battle and Russian bat ‘cudgel’, but whatever the word’s origins, it seems likely that at some point it was influenced by Old French batte, from battre ‘beat’.

The flying bat is an alteration of Middle English backe, which was borrowed from a Scandinavian language. The word is represented in Old Swedish natbakka ‘night bat’, and appears to be an alteration of an earlier -blaka, as in Old Norse lethrblaka, literally ‘leatherflapper’. If this is so, bat would mean etymologically ‘flapper’, which would be of a piece with other names for the animal, particularly German fledermaus ‘fluttermouse’ and English flittermouse, which remained a dialectal word for ‘bat’ into the 20th century.

It is unusual for the name of such a common animal not to go right back to Old English; in this case the Old English word was hrēremūs, which survived dialectally into the 20th century as rearmouse.

=> battle
besideyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
beside: [13] Beside was a Middle English lexicalization of the Old English phrase be sīdan, literally ‘by the side of’. The -s of besides is a survival of the genitive ending added to certain adverbs in the Old English and early Middle English period (such as always). The metaphorical beside oneself originated in the 15th century.
=> side
birdyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bird: [OE] Bird is something of a mystery word. It was not the ordinary Old English word for ‘feathered flying animal’; that was fowl. In Old English, bird meant specifically ‘young bird, nestling’. It did not begin to replace fowl as the general term until the 14th century, and the process took many hundreds of years to complete. Its source is quite unknown; it has no obvious relatives in the Germanic languages, or in any other Indo-European language.

The connotations of its original meaning have led to speculation that it is connected with breed and brood (the usual Old English form was brid, but the r and i subsequently became transposed in a process known as metathesis), but no convincing evidence for this has ever been advanced. As early as 1300, bird was used for ‘girl’, but this was probably owing to confusion with another similar Middle English word, burde, which also meant ‘young woman’.

The usage crops up from time to time in later centuries, clearly as an independent metaphorical application, but there does not really seem to be an unbroken chain of occurrences leading up to the sudden explosion in the use of bird for ‘young woman’ in the 20th century. Of other figurative applications of the word, ‘audience disapproval’ (as in ‘get the bird’) comes from the hissing of geese, and in ‘prison sentence’ bird is short for bird lime, rhyming slang for time.

blackyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
black: [OE] The usual Old English word for ‘black’ was sweart (source of modern English swart and swarthy, and related to German schwarz ‘black’), but black already existed (Old English blæc), and since the Middle English period it has replaced swart. Related but now extinct forms existed in other Germanic languages (including Old Norse blakkr ‘dark’ and Old Saxon blac ‘ink’), but the word’s ultimate source is not clear. Some have compared it with Latin flagrāre and Greek phlégein, both meaning ‘burn’, which go back to an Indo-European base *phleg-, a variant of *bhleg-.
blightyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
blight: [17] Blight appeared out of the blue in the early 17th century in agricultural and horticultural texts, and its origins are far from clear. It has, however, been speculated that it may be connected with the Old English words blǣce and blǣcthu, both terms for some sort of itchy skin condition such as scabies. These in turn are probably related to Old English blǣcan ‘bleach’, the link being the flaky whiteness of the infected skin.

In Middle English, blǣcthu would have become *bleht, which could plausibly have been the source of blight. A related piece in the jigsaw is blichening ‘blight or rust in corn’, found once in Middle English, which may have come ultimately from Old Norse blikna ‘become pale’.

=> bleach
bogeyyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bogey: [19] Bogey is one of a set of words relating to alarming or annoying manifestations of the supernatural (others are bogle, bug, bugbear, and possibly boggle and bugaboo) whose interconnections are difficult to sort out. A strand common to most of them is a northern origin, which has led some to suggest an ultimate source in Scandinavia – perhaps an ancestor of Norwegian dialect bugge ‘important man’ (which has also been linked with English big) might lie behind Middle English bugge, originally ‘scarecrow’ but later used for more spectral objects of terror.

Others, however, noting Welsh bwg, bwgan ‘ghost’, have gone with a Celtic origin. Of more recent uses of bogey, ‘policeman’ and ‘nasal mucus’ seem to have appeared between the two World Wars, while ‘golf score of one stroke over par’ is said to have originated at the Great Yarmouth Golf Club in the 1890s, when a certain Major Wellman exclaimed, during the course of a particularly trying round, that he must be playing against the ‘bogey-man’ (a figure in a popular song of the time). Bogie ‘undercarriage’ [19] is a different word (of if anything obscurer origin than bogey).

boilyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
boil: Boil ‘large spot’ [OE] and boil ‘vaporize with heat’ [13] are distinct words. The former comes from Old English byl or byle, which became bile in Middle English; the change to boil started in the 15th century, perhaps from association with the verb. The Old English word goes back ultimately to a West Germanic *būlja, whose central meaning element was ‘swelling’; from it also comes German beule ‘lump, boil’.

The verb’s source, via Anglo-Norman boiller, is Latin bullīre, a derivative of bulla ‘bubble’, a word which also gave us bull (as in ‘Papal bull’), bullion, bowl (as in the game of ‘bowls’), budge, bullet, bulletin and bully (as in ‘bully beef’), as well, perhaps, as bill.

=> bill, bowl, budge, bull, bullet, bulletin, bullion, bully, ebullient
boothyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
booth: [12] In common with a wide range of other English words, including bower and the -bour of neighbour, booth comes ultimately from the Germanic base *- ‘dwell’. From this source came the East Norse verb bóa ‘dwell’ (whose present participle produced English bond and the -band of husband); addition of the suffix -th produced the unrecorded noun bóth. ‘dwelling’, which came into Middle English as bōth.
=> be, boor, bower, husband, neighbour
boozeyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
booze: [13] This word seems to have been borrowed on two distinct and widely separate occasions from Middle Dutch būsen ‘drink much alcohol’ (which some have connected with Middle High German būs ‘swelling’). In the 13th century this gave Middle English bouse, which if it had continued to the present day would have rhymed with the verb house. However, in the 16th century the Middle Dutch word was reborrowed, giving modern English booze.
bornyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
born: [OE] The Old English past participle of the verb meaning ‘bear’ was boren. By Middle English times this had become contracted to born(e), but no distinction in meaning was made on the basis of spelling. This did not come about until around 1600, since when born has become established as the obstetric orthography, while borne remains the straightforward past participle of bear ‘carry’.
=> bear
bounceyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bounce: [13] Bounce is something of a mystery word. When it first appears in Middle English it means ‘hit’, and it does not acquire its modern sense ‘rebound’ until the late 16th century. There are similar words in other Germanic languages, such as Dutch bons ‘thump’, but there is no reason to suppose that any of them is actually the source of the English word. Many etymologists incline to the view that bounce is an independent onomatopoeic formation.
brittleyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
brittle: [14] Brittle probably comes from a Germanic stem *brut- ‘break’, which had several descendants in Old English (including the verbs brēotan and gebryttan ‘break’) that did not survive the Norman Conquest. It came in a more than usual profusion of spellings in Middle English (bretil, brutil, etc), not all of which may be the same word; brottle, for instance, current from the 14th to the 16th century, may well have come from the aforementioned Old English brēotan. There is also the synonymous brickle [15], which survived dialectally into the 20th century; this is related ultimately to break.
brownyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
brown: [OE] In Old English, brown meant, rather vaguely, ‘dark’; it does not seem to have become a definite colour word until the 13th century. It comes from West and North Germanic *brūnaz, which probably goes back ultimately to the same Indo-European source (*bheros) as bear, etymologically the ‘brown [that is, dark] animal’. An additional meaning of brown in Old and Middle English, shared also by related words such as Old High German brūn, was ‘shining, glistening’, particularly as applied to weapons (it survives in fossilized form in the old ballad Cospatrick, recorded in 1802: ‘my bonny brown sword’); Old French took it over when it borrowed brun from Germanic, and it is the basis of the verb burnir ‘polish’, from which English gets burnish [14].

Another contribution made by French brun to English is the feminine diminutive form brunette [17]. An earlier Old French variant burnete had previously been borrowed by English in the 12th century as burnet, and since the 14th century has been applied to a genus of plants of the rose family. The term burnet moth is first recorded in 1842.

=> bear, brunette, burnish
bruiseyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bruise: [OE] Modern English bruise is a blend of words from two sources. The main contributor is Old English brysan, which as well as ‘bruise’ meant ‘crush to pieces’, and is related to Latin frustum ‘piece broken or cut off’. But then in the early Middle English period we begin to see the influence of the unrelated Old French verb bruisier ‘break’ and its Anglo-Norman form bruser (which in modern French has become briser).

Their main effect has been on the spelling of the word, although the use of bruise for ‘break’ from the 14th to the 17th century seems to have been due to French influence too, rather than a survival of the Old English meaning: ‘Had his foot once slipped … he would have been bruised in pieces’, The most dangerous and memorable adventure of Richard Ferris 1590. Bruiser ‘large rough man’ originated in an 18th-century term for a prizefighter.

=> débris
bullyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bull: There are three distinct words bull in English. The oldest is the animal name, which first appears in late Old English as bula. Related forms occur in other Germanic languages, including German bulle and Dutch bul. The diminutive bullock is also recorded in late Old English. The second bull is ‘edict’ [13], as in ‘papal bull’. This comes from medieval Latin bulla ‘sealed document’, a development of an earlier sense ‘seal’, which can be traced back to classical Latin bulla ‘bubble’ (source also of English bowl, as in the game of bowls; of boil ‘heat liquid’; of budge [16], via Old French bouger and Vulgar Latin *bullicāre ‘bubble up, boil’; and probably of bill ‘statement of charges’).

And finally there is ‘ludicrous or selfcontradictory statement’ [17], usually now in the phrase Irish bull, whose origins are mysterious; there may be a connection with the Middle English noun bul ‘falsehood’ and the 15th-to 17th-century verb bull ‘mock, cheat’, which has been linked with Old French boler or bouller ‘deceive’. The source of the modern colloquial senses ‘nonsense’ and ‘excessive discipline’ is not clear.

Both are early 20th-century, and closely associated with the synonymous and contemporary bullshit, suggesting a conscious link with bull the animal. In meaning, however, the first at least is closer to bull ‘ludicrous statement’. Bull’s-eye ‘centre of a target’ and ‘large sweet’ are both early 19th-century. Bulldoze is from 1870s America, and was apparently originally applied to the punishment of recalcitrant black slaves; it has been conjectured that the underlying connotation was of ‘giving someone a dose fit for a bull’.

The term bulldozer was applied to the vehicle in the 1930s.

=> phallic; bill, bowl, budge
bunchyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bunch: [14] Bunch originally meant ‘swelling’ (the first text recorded as containing the word, the Middle English poem Body and Soul 1325, speaks of ragged folk ‘with broad bunches on their back’), but we have no real clues as to its source. Perhaps, like bump, it was ultimately imitative of the sound of hitting something, the sense ‘swelling’ being the result of the blows. The first hints of the modern sense ‘cluster, collection’ come in the mid-15th century in the phrase bunch of straw, although how this derived from ‘swelling’ is not clear.
buryyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bury: [OE] Modern English bury is a descendant of Old English byrgan, which came from the Germanic base *burg- (source also of English borough). The underlying meaning of the base was ‘protection, shelter’, and in the case of bury this referred to ‘covering a dead body with earth’ (in Old English, bury applied only to interment; the general sense ‘put underground’ did not develop until the 14th century). The derived burial goes back to Old English byrgels, which in Middle English times was mistaken for a plural.
=> borough
canyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
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