英语词源字典 - 在线词源网站

Alsatian: Alsatian: [17] Alsatian has been around since at least the late 17th century (although in early use it generally denoted not the Franco-German border province of Alsace but a no-go area in London, near the banks of the Thames, where criminals, vagabonds and prostitutes hung out, which was nicknamed ‘Alsatia’ because of the real Alsace’s reputation as a harbour for the disaffected).

It really came into its own, however, during World War I. A breed of dog known as the ‘German sheepdog’ or ‘German shepherd dog’ (German deutscher Schäferhund) had been introduced into Britain, but understandably, between 1914 and 1918 its stock fell considerably. When it was reintroduced after the war it was thought politic to give it a less inflammatory name, so it became officially the ‘Alsatian wolf-dog’ (even though it has nothing to do with Alsace, and there is no element of wolf in its genetic make-up).

It continued to be called the German shepherd in the USA, and in the latter part of the 20th century that usage crept back into Britain.
apocalypse: apocalypse: [13] A ‘catastrophic event, such as the end of the world’ is a relatively recent, 20thcentury development in the meaning of apocalypse. Originally it was an alternative name for the book of the Bible known as the ‘Revelation of St. John the divine’, which describes a vision of the future granted to St John on the island of Patmos. And in fact, the underlying etymological meaning of apocalypse is literally ‘revelation’.

It comes, via Old French and ecclesiastical Latin, from Greek apokálupsis, a derivative of the verb apokalúptein ‘uncover, reveal’, which was formed from the prefix apo- ‘away, off’ and the verb kalúptein ‘cover’ (related to English conceal).
=> conceal
arctic: arctic: [14] Etymologically, the Arctic is the region of the ‘bear’. Nothing to do with polar bears, though. The characteristic constellations of the northern hemisphere are the ‘Little Bear’ (Latin Ursa Minor), which contains the northern celestial pole, and the Plough, otherwise known as the ‘Great Bear’ (Latin Ursa Major). The perception that they resemble a bear (Greek arktos) goes back to ancient times, and the Greeks used the derived adjective arktikos, literally ‘relating to bears’, to denote ‘northern’.

By the time this reached English, via Latin ar(c)ticus and Old French artique, it was being applied specifically to the northern polar regions. (The original English spelling, reflecting the French form, was artic. The more etymologically ‘correct’ arctic came in in the 17th century, but uncertain spellers are still apt to regress to artic.) Antarctic [14] for the corresponding southern polar region likewise comes ultimately from Greek (antarktikos, with the prefix anti- ‘opposite’). Arcturus [14], the name of a very bright star in the constellation Boötes, means literally ‘bear watcher’ or ‘bear guardian’ (Greek Arktouros), a reference to the fact that the tail of the Great Bear points towards it.
argosy: argosy: [16] On the face of it argosy, an archaic term for ‘large merchant ship’, gives every appearance of being connected with the Argonauts, members of the crew of the ship Argo who sailed with Jason in quest of the Golden Fleece; but in fact the words are completely unrelated. When English first acquired argosy, from Italian, it was ragusea, which meant literally ‘vessel from Ragusa’ (an important city and seaport on the Dalmatian coast, now known as Dubrovnik). From the hotchpotch of spellings used in English in the 16th and 17th centuries (including ragusye, rhaguse, argosea, and arguze), argosy finally emerged as victor.
avocado: avocado: [17] Anyone tucking into an avocado could well be taken aback to learn that in the South American Indian language from which the word originally came, it meant literally ‘testicle’. The Nahuatl Indians named the fruit ahuacatl ‘testicle’ on account of its shape. The Spanish conquistadors took the word over as aguacate, but before long this became altered by folk etymology (the substitution of familiar for unfamiliar forms) to avocado (literally ‘advocate’ in Spanish).

When English borrowed the word, folk etymology took a hand yet again, for in the late 17th century it became known as the alligator pear, a name which survived into the 20th century.
bacchanalian: bacchanalian: [16] Bákkhos was the Greek god of wine. Son of Zeus and Semele, he was also known as Diónūsos. The Romans adopted him, amending his name to Bacchus, and his worshippers went in for a brand of licentious revelry, in his honour, known as Bacchanalia. Hence the metaphorical application of the English adjective to anything drunkenly orgiastic.
bandy: bandy: [16] To ‘bandy words with someone’ may go back to an original idea of ‘banding together to oppose others’. The word comes from French bander ‘oppose’, which is possibly a derivative of bande ‘group, company’ (source of English band). The rather complex semantic development goes from ‘taking sides’, through ‘opposing a third party’, ‘exchanging blows’, ‘exchanging hits’ (in the 16th and 17th centuries it was a term in tennis), to ‘exchanging hostile words’.

The adjective bandy [17], as in ‘bandy legs’, probably comes from the noun bandy ‘curved stick used in an early form of hockey’ (the game was also known as bandy). It may ultimately be related to the verb bandy, the connection being the notion of knocking a ball to and fro.
=> band
barricade: barricade: [17] 12 May 1588 was known as la journée des barricades ‘the day of the barricades’, because in the course of disturbances in Paris during the Huguenot wars, large barrels (French barriques) filled with earth, cobblestones, etc were hauled into the street on that day to form barricades – and the term has stuck ever since. Barrique itself was borrowed from Spanish barrica ‘cask’, which was formed from the same stem as that from which English gets barrel [14]. It has been speculated that this was Vulgar Latin *barra ‘bar’, on the basis that barrels are made of ‘bars’ or ‘staves’.
=> bar, barrel
bicycle: bicycle: [19] The word bicycle, literally ‘twowheeled’ (from Greek kúklos ‘circle, wheel’), was originally coined in French, and first appeared in English in 1868, in the 7 September edition of the Daily News: ‘bysicles and trysicles which we saw in the Champs Élysées and the Bois de Boulogne this summer’. This reflects the fact that it was in the 1860s that the bicycle first assumed the form we know it in today, with pedals and cranks driving the front wheel. (Slightly earlier was the now obsolete velocipede, literally ‘swift foot’, first applied to pedal bicycles and tricycles around 1850.

Until the introduction of pneumatic tyres in the 1880s, the new cycles were known as bone-shakers – a term first encountered in 1874.)
=> cycle, wheel
bird: 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.
bluestocking: bluestocking: [18] The term bluestocking ‘female intellectual’ derives from the gatherings held at the houses of fashionable mid-18th- century hostesses to discuss literary and related topics. It became the custom at these not to put on full formal dress, which for gentlemen included black silk stockings. One habitué in particular, Mr Benjamin Stillingfleet, used to wear greyish worsted stockings, conventionally called ‘blue’.

This lack of decorum was looked on with scorn in some quarters, and Admiral Boscawan dubbed the participants the ‘Blue Stocking Society’. Women who attended their highbrow meetings thus became known as ‘Blue Stocking Ladies’ (even though it was a man who had worn the stockings), and towards the end of the century this was abbreviated to simply bluestockings.
botulism: botulism: [19] The fact that Latin botulus was used metaphorically for ‘intestine’ is in this case just a red herring; its principal meaning was ‘sausage’, and it was the discovery of the foodpoisoning germ in cooked meats, such assausages, which led to the term botulism. Early work on unmasking the bacterium responsible (now known as Clostridium botulinum) was done in Germany, and at first the German form of the word, botulismus, was used in English, but by the late 1880s we find the naturalized botulism fairly well established.
buff: buff: [16] Buff originally meant ‘buffalo’; it was presumably an alteration of the French word buffe ‘buffalo’. That sense had died out by the early 18th century, but since then the word has undergone a bizarre series of semantic changes. First, it came to mean ‘leather’, originally from buffalo hides, but later from ox hides. This was commonly used in the 16th and 17th centuries for making military uniforms, so be in buff came to mean ‘be in the army’.

Then in the 17th century the associations of ‘hide’ and ‘skin’ led to the expression in the buff ‘naked’. The colour of buff leather, a sort of dull yellowish-brown, led to the word’s adoption in the 18th century as a colour term. In the 19th century, soft buff or suede leather was used for the small pads or wheels used by silversmiths, watchmakers, etc for polishing: hence the verb buff ‘polish’.

And finally, in the 1820s New York City volunteer firemen were known as ‘buffs’, from the colour of their uniforms; thus anyone who was a volunteer or enthusiastic for something became known as a buff (as in ‘film buff’). The buff of blind-man’s buff is a different word. It meant ‘blow, punch’, and was borrowed in the 15th century from Old French buffe, source also of English buffet ‘blow’ [13].

The term blind-man’s buff is first recorded around 1600, some what later than its now obsolete synonym hoodman blind.
=> buffalo, buffet
calico: calico: [16] Calico, a plain cotton cloth, was originally Calicut-cloth. In the 16th and 17th centuries it was the main export of Calicut, now known as Kozhikode, a city and port on the southwest coast of India whose first European visitor was the Portuguese explorer Vasco da Gama (c. 1469–1524). In the 19th century Calicut was South India’s major port. (It has no connection with Calcutta.)
carburettor: carburettor: [19] Carburettor is a derivative of carburet, an obsolete term for what is now known as carbide ‘a carbon compound’. It was originally used for a device for adding carbon to a gas for enhancing its power of illumination; the current application to a device for producing air/fuel vapour in an engine dates from the 1890s. Carburet itself was a later form of carbure, borrowed in the 1790s from French; its ultimate origin was in Latin carbō, source of English carbon.
=> carbon
cart: cart: [13] Old English had a word cræt ‘carriage’, which may, by the process known as metathesis (reversal of speech sounds), have produced the word which first appeared at the beginning of the 13th century as karte or carte. But a part must certainly also have been played by Old Norse kartr ‘cart’, and some have also detected the influence of Anglo-Norman carete, a diminutive form of car (source of English car).
=> car
cesspool: cesspool: [17] Cesspool has no direct etymological connection with pool. It comes from Old French suspirail ‘ventilator, breathing hole’, a derivative of souspirer ‘breathe’ (this goes back to Latin suspīrāre, source of the archaic English suspire ‘sigh’). This was borrowed into English in the early 15th century as suspiral ‘drainpipe’, which in the subsequent two hundred years appeared in a variety of spellings, including cesperalle.

By the early 16th century we find evidence of its being used not just for a pipe to drain matter away, but also for a well or tank to receive matter thus drained (originally any effluent, not just sewage). The way was thus open for a ‘reinterpretation’ of the word’s final element as pool (by the process known as folk etymology), and in the late 17th century the form cesspool emerged.

By analogy, as if there were really a word cess ‘sewage’, the term cesspit was coined in the mid-19th century.
=> suspire
coconut: coconut: [17] Despite its tropical origins, the coconut has a European name. The base of the coconut’s shell, with its three small holes, apparently reminded early Spanish and Portuguese explorers of a human face, so they called it coco; this was the Portuguese word for a grinning or grimacing face, as of a scarecrow. English adopted it in the 16th century, and it formed the basis of the compound coconut, first recorded in 1613. (Before then the fruit of the coconut palm had been known as the Indian nut.)
coupé: coupé: [19] Coupé is the past participle of the French verb couper ‘cut’, and it was originally applied in the early 19th century to a type of four-wheeled covered carriage (in full a carrosse coupé ‘cut-off carriage’). The notion behind the term is a truncated version of an earlier type of coach, known as a berlin, achieved by removing the rear seat. The first record of its application to closed two-door cars comes in 1908.

The French verb couper is a derivative of the noun coup ‘blow’ (itself borrowed into English in the 18th century), which in turn came from medieval Latin colpus (ultimate source of English coppice, which etymologically denotes the ‘cutting down’ of trees). Earlier in time the word can be traced back via Latin colaphus to Greek kólaphos ‘blow, punch’.

A related word is coupon, borrowed from French in the 19th century.
=> coppice, copse, coup
crane: crane: [OE] Crane is a widespread Indo- European bird-name: related forms such as Latin grūs, Greek géranos (source of English geranium, also known as crane’s-bill, from the long pointed ‘beak’ of its fruit), and Welsh garan point to a prehistoric Indo-European base *ger-, possibly imitative of the bird’s raucous call. The resemblance of a crane lowering its long neck to feed or drink to the operation of a lifting apparatus with a long jib led to the application of crane to the latter in the 14th century (French grue and German kran show a similar semantic development). Cranberry [17] is a borrowing (originally American) of German cranbeere, literally ‘craneberry’, so named from the stamens, which supposedly resemble a beak.
=> cranberry, geranium, pedigree
cravat: cravat: [17] The fashion for wearing scarves round the neck started in France in the 1650s. It was inspired by Croatian mercenaries employed there at that time, who regularly sported linen neckbands of that type. The Croats were called in French Cravates (the name comes via German Krabate from the original Serbo-Croat term Hrvat), and so their neckerchiefs came to be known as cravates too. English was quick to adopt the term.
curd: curd: [14] Curd began life as crud, a word which has survived in its own right. In the 15th century it underwent a process known as metathesis, by which the sounds r and u became transposed, producing curd. A derivative of this, dating from the 16th century, is curdle. The word’s ultimate ancestry is not known, although some consider that Gaelic gruth may be related.
curl: curl: [14] Curl seems to have been borrowed from Middle Dutch krul ‘curly’, and indeed the original English forms of the word were crolle and crulle. The present-day form arose in the 15th century by a process known as metathesis, whereby the sounds r and u were transposed. The Middle Dutch word came from a Germanic *krusl-, source also of German kraus ‘curly’. Modern Dutch krul, meanwhile, has given English cruller ‘small cake of twisted shape’ [19].
=> cruller
damask: damask: [14] Originally, damask was ‘cloth from Damascus’ (which was known as Damaske in Middle English). This Syrian city was a notable centre for export to the West in the Middle Ages, and has provided English with the damson [14] (originally the damascene plum, or plum from Damascus) and the damask rose [16]. In addition, the term for the method of inlaying steel known as damascening [19], or earlier damaskining [16], comes via French and Italian from the name of Damascus (where such steel was once produced).
=> damson
demijohn: demijohn: [18] Demijohn ‘large globular bottle’ has no connection with half of the common male forename. It arose through a process known as folk etymology, by which an unfamiliar or slightly outlandish foreign word is deconstructed and then reassembled using similar-sounding elements in the host language. In this case the source was French dame-jeanne, literally ‘Lady Jane’, a term used in French for such a container since the 17th century.
dirt: dirt: [13] Dirt was originally drit, and meant ‘excrement’ (it was borrowed from Old Norse drit, which goes back to a prehistoric Germanic base *drit- that also produced Dutch dreet ‘excrement’). The toned-down sense ‘soiling substance’ is of equal antiquity with ‘excrement’ in English, and the modern English form dirt first appeared in the 15th century, by a process known as metathesis in which two sounds are reversed.
eaves: eaves: [OE] The etymological meaning of eaves appears to be ‘going over the edge, projecting’. It comes from a prehistoric Germanic *obaswa, which was probably formed on *ob-, the base from which English over ultimately derives. The eavesdrip or eavesdrop is, or was, the area of ground on which rainwater thrown off by the eaves falls, so that somebody who stood within this area, with his or her ear to the door or window trying to listen in on private conversations, became known as an eavesdropper [15].
=> over
era: era: [17] In ancient Rome, small discs or tokens made of ‘brass’ (Latin aes, a descendant, like English ore [OE], of Indo-European *ajes) used for counting were known as area. In due course this developed the metaphorical meaning ‘number as a basis for calculation’, and from around the 5th century AD it came to be used in Spain, North Africa, and southern Gaul as a prefix for dates, some what analogous to modern English AD.

By extension it was then applied to a ‘system of chronological notation, as dated from a particular event or point in time’, the sense in which English acquired the word. The more general ‘historical period’ is an 18thcentury semantic development.
=> ore
fright: fright: [OE] Prehistoric Germanic *furkhtaz, an adjective of unknown origin (not related to English fear), meant ‘afraid’. From it was derived a noun *furkhtīn, which was the basis of one of the main words for ‘fear’ among the ancient Germanic languages (not superseded as the chief English term by fear until the 13th century). Its modern descendants include German furcht and English fright (in which the original sequence ‘vowel plus r’ was reversed by the process known as metathesis – something which also happened to Middle Low German vruchte, from which Swedish fruktan and Danish frygt ‘fear’ were borrowed).
fringe: fringe: [14] Late Latin fimbria meant ‘fibre, thread’ (it is used in modern English as an anatomical term for a threadlike structure, such as the filaments at the opening of the Fallopian tube). In the plural it was applied to a ‘fringe’, and eventually this meaning fed back into the singular. In Vulgar Latin fimbria, by the soundreversal process known as metathesis, became *frimbia, which passed into Old French as fringe or frenge – source of the English word.
gamut: gamut: [15] Gamut began life as a medieval musical term. The 11th-century French-born musical theorist Guido d’Arezzo devised the ‘hexachord’, a six-note scale used for sightreading music (and forerunner of the modern tonic sol-fa). The notes were mnemonically named ut, re, mi, fa, sol, la (after, according to legend, syllables in a Latin hymn to St John: ‘Ut queant laxis resonāre fibris Mira gestorum famuli tuorum, Solve polluti labii reatum’ – ‘Absolve the crime of the polluted lip in order that the slaves may be able with relaxed chords to praise with sound your marvellous deeds’).

The note below the lowest note (ut) became known as gamma-ut (gamma, the name of the Greek equivalent of g, having been used in medieval notation for the note bottom G). And in due course gamma-ut, or by contraction in English gamut, came to be applied to the whole scale, and hence figuratively to any ‘complete range’ (an early 17th-century development).
gaudy: gaudy: [16] Middle English had a colour term gaudy-green ‘yellowish-green’, which originally denoted ‘green produced by dye obtained from the plant dyer’s rocket, Reseda luteola’, a plant formerly known as weld [14]. The word weld came from a Germanic source which, borrowed into Old French, produced gaude – whence English gaudy-green. It has been claimed that this gaudy soon lost its literal meaning ‘produced from weld-dye’, and came to be interpreted as ‘bright’.

Other etymologists, however, favour the explanation that gaudy comes from gaud ‘joke, plaything’ [14], which was adapted from Old French gaudir ‘rejoice’, a descendant of Latin gaudēre ‘delight in’ (from which English gets joy).
gingerbread: gingerbread: [13] The idea that gingerbread does not much resemble bread is entirely justified by the word’s history. For originally it was gingebras (a borrowing from Old French), and it meant ‘preserved ginger’. By the mid-14th century, by the process known as folk etymology (the substitution of a more for a less familiar form), -bread had begun to replace -bras, and it was only a matter of time (the early 15th century, apparently) before sense followed form. The expression ‘take the gilt off the gingerbread’ (not recorded before the late 19th century) comes from the fact that formerly gingerbread was often decorated with gold leaf.
gossamer: gossamer: [14] It would be pleasant to think that gossamer, originally ‘fine cobwebs’, is a descendant of an earlier goose-summer, but unfortunately there is not enough evidence to make this more than a conjecture. The theory goes as follows: mid-autumn is a time when geese for the table are plentiful (November was once known as gänsemonat ‘geese-month’ in German), and so a warm period around then might have been termed goose-summer (we now call it an Indian summer); the silken filaments of gossamer are most commonly observed floating in the air on such warm autumnal days; and so the spiders’ webs were christened with the name of the season.
gout: gout: [13] Latin gutta meant literally ‘drop’ (the spelling of gutta in English gutta percha [19] shows its influence, although in fact the term originated in Malay getah percha ‘gum tree’). It was applied metaphorically to various diseases ascribed to the precipitation of fluids from one part of the body to another, among them pain in the joints which was supposed to be caused by poisonous material deposited from the blood (not far wide of the mark, for the condition now known as gout is due to the accumulation of uricacid products in the joints). English acquired the word via Old French goute.
=> gutter
guinea: guinea: [17] Guinea first emerged as the name of a section of the West Africa continent in the late 16th century (its origins are not known, but presumably it was based on an African word). In 1663 the Royal Mint began to produce a gold coin valued at 20 shillings ‘for the use of the Company of Royal Adventurers of England trading with Africa’. It had the figure of an elephant on it.

Straightaway it became known as a guinea, both because its use was connected with the Guinea coast and because it was made from gold obtained there. And what is more, the coins soon came to be much in demand for domestic use: on 29 October 1666 Samuel Pepys recorded ‘And so to my goldsmith to bid him look out for some gold for me; and he tells me that Ginnys, which I bought 2000 of not long ago, and cost me but 18½d. change, will now cost me 22d., and but very few to be had at any price.

However, some more I will have, for they are very convenient – and of easy disposal’. Its value fluctuated, and was not fixed at 21 shillings until 1717. The last one was minted in 1813, but guinea as a term for the amount 21 shillings stayed in use until the early 1970s, when the decimalization of British currency dealt it the deathblow. The guinea pig [17], incidentally, comes from South America, and its name probably arose from a confusion between Guinea and Guiana, on the northern coast of South America.
handicap: handicap: [17] The word handicap originally denoted a sort of game of chance in which one person put up one of his or her personal possessions against an article belonging to someone else (for example one might match a gold watch against the other’s horse) and an umpire was appointed to adjudicate on the respective values of the articles. All three parties put their hands into a hat, together with a wager, and on hearing the umpire’s verdict the two opponents had to withdraw them in such a way as to indicate whether they wished to proceed with the game.

If they agreed, either in favour of proceeding or against, the umpire took the money; but if they disagreed, the one who wanted to proceed took it. It was the concealing of the hands in the hat that gave the game its name hand in cap, hand i’ cap, source of modern English handicap. In the 18th century the same term was applied to a sort of horse race between two horses, in which an umpire decided on a weight disadvantage to be imposed on a superior horse and again the owners of the horses signalled their assent to or dissent from his adjudication by the way in which they withdrew their hands from a hat.

Such a race became known as a handicap race, and in the 19th century the term handicap first broadened out to any contest in which inequalities are artificially evened out, and was eventually transferred to the ‘disadvantage’ imposed on superior contestants – whence the main modern meaning, ‘disadvantage, disability’.
harvest: harvest: [OE] The idea underlying the word harvest is of ‘plucking, gathering, cropping’ – it comes ultimately from Indo-European *karp-, which also produced Greek karpós ‘fruit, crop, harvest’ (whence English carpel [19]) and Latin carpere ‘pluck’ (source of English carpet, excerpt, and scarce) – but its original meaning in English was ‘time of gathering crops’ rather than ‘act of gathering crops’.

Indeed, until as recently as the 18th century it was used as the name for the season now known as autumn (as its German relative herbst still is), and it was not until the 16th century that the present-day senses ‘act of gathering crops’ and ‘crops gathered’ began to develop.
=> carpet, excerpt, scarce
hire: hire: [OE] Hire probably originated in North Germany, in the area where the set of dialects known as Low German was spoken. It comes from a prehistoric *khūr-, which also produced Dutch huren (Swedish hyra and Danish hyre were borrowed from Low German).
indent: indent: Etymologically, English has two separate words indent, although they have converged to a considerable extent over the centuries (particularly in the virtually shared derivative indentation). The one meaning ‘(make) a hole or depression’ [14] is simply a derivative of dent, which itself probably originated as a variant of dint. Indent ‘make notches in’ [14], however, owes its origin to Latin dēns ‘tooth’.

This formed the basis of an Anglo-Latin verb indentāre, which denoted the drawing up of a contract between two parties on two identical documents, which were cut along a matching line of notches or ‘teeth’ which could subsequently be rejoined to prove their authenticity. A particular use of such contracts was between master craftsmen and their trainees, who hence became known as indentured apprentices.
=> dent, dint; dentist
insulin: insulin: [20] Insulin, a hormone which promotes the utilization of blood sugar, was first isolated in 1921 by F G Banting and C H Best. Its name, which was inspired by the fact that insulin is secreted by groups of cells known as the islets of Langerhans (insula is Latin for ‘island’), was actually coined in French around 1909, and was independently proposed in English on a couple of further occasions before the substance itself was anything more than a hypothesis.
=> isle, peninsula
intransigent: intransigent: [19] In the 18th century there was an extreme leftist political party in Spain which, because of its unwillingness ever to compromise, was known as los intransigentes. The name was formed with the negative prefix in- from transigentes, the present participle of Spanish transigir ‘compromise’. This was a descendant of Latin transigere, literally ‘drive through’, hence ‘come to an understanding, accomplish’ (source of English transact), a compound verb formed from trans- ‘through’ and agere ‘drive’ (from which English gets action, agent, etc.) French took the Spanish word over as a general adjective meaning ‘uncompromising’, and English acquired it in the early 1880s.
=> act, action, agent, transact
leotard: leotard: [19] The leotard commemorates the French trapeze artist Jules Léotard (1830–70), who wore such a garment when he was performing. He was one of the foremost circus acrobats of his day, and a pioneer of aerial stunts: he performed the first mid-air somersault, and invented the ‘flying trapeze’ (he became known as the ‘Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze’, from George Leybourne’s song (1860) of that name), but fate has decreed that his name should be passed down to posterity in the form of a one-piece exercise garment.
marble: marble: [12] Greek mármaros, a word of unknown origin, denoted to begin with ‘any hard stone’, but association with the verb marmaírein ‘shine’ led to a particular application to ‘marble’. Latin took it over as marmor, and it passed into Old French as marbre. Here, by a process known as dissimilation, in which one of two similar sounds is replaced by a different one, marbre became marble – whence English marble. The use of the word for the little ball with which the game of ‘marbles’ is played dates from the late 17th century.
meander: meander: [16] The word meander comes from the name of an actual river, the Maeander (now known as the Büyük Menderes), which flows through Turkey into the Aegean sea. It was famous in ancient times for its winding course, and so Greek maíandros came to be used as a generic term for ‘winding course’. The word passed into English via Latin maeander, and was turned into a verb in the 17th century.
milliner: milliner: [16] The Italian city of Milan was famous in medieval and Renaissance times for the fabrics, laces, etc that it manufactured; and a merchant who imported such ‘Milan ware’ became known as a Milaner. In due course the term became associated with ‘makers of female garments’, which would have incorporated such Italian haberdashery, and by the 19th century it had narrowed down specifically to ‘maker of women’s hats’.
morse: morse: [19] People had for some years been experimenting with the magnetic telegraph, but it was the American inventor Samuel Morse (1791–1872) who in 1836 produced the first workable system. And with his assistant Alexander Bain he devised a set of dots and dashes representing letters and numbers which could be used for transmitting messages, and which came to be known as the Morse code. In the first half of the 20th century morse was also used as a verb: ‘It can be used for Morsing instructions about breakfast to the cook’, Punch 31 March 1920.
municipal: municipal: [16] Latin mūnus meant ‘office, duty, gift’. Combined with -ceps ‘taker’ (a derivative of the verb capere ‘take’, source of English capture) it formed mūniceps, which denoted a ‘citizen of a Roman city (known as a mūnicipium) whose inhabitants had Roman citizenship but could not be magistrates’. From mūnicipium was derived the adjective mūnicipālis, source of English municipal; this was originally used for ‘of the internal affairs of a state, domestic’, and the modern application to the sphere of local government did not emerge strongly until the 19th century.

The stem of Latin mūnus also crops up in commūnis (source of English common), and so community and municipality are etymologically related. Mūnus in the later sense ‘gift’ formed the basis of the Latin adjective mūnificus ‘giving gifts’, hence ‘generous’, from which ultimately English gets munificent [16].
=> capture, common
pantechnicon: pantechnicon: [19] The original Pantechnicon was a huge complex of warehouses, wine vaults, and other storage facilities in Motcomb Street, in London’s Belgravia. Built in 1830 and supposed to be fireproof, it was almost totally destroyed by fire in 1874. It seems originally to have been intended to be a bazaar, and its name was coined from the prefix pan- ‘all’ and Greek tekhnikón, the neuter form of tekhnikós ‘artistic’, denoting that all sorts of manufactured wares were to be bought there.

But it was its role as a furniture repository that brought it into the general language. Removal vans taking furniture there came to be known as pantechnicon vans, and by the 1890s pantechnicon was a generic term for ‘removal vans’.
=> architect, technical
parchment: parchment: [13] Under several layers of disguise lurks the geographical origin of parchment: the ancient town of Pergamum in western Turkey, whose inhabitants used the skin of sheep for writing on rather than papyrus. In Latin, such skin was known as charta Pergamīna ‘paper from Pergamum’, or simply pergamīna. This was later blended with Parthica pellis ‘Parthian leather’ to produce a Vulgar Latin *particamīnum, which passed into English via Old French parchemin (the ending was changed to -ment on the model of other English words, in the 15th century).

The formal distinction between parchment (made from sheepskin) and vellum (made from calfskin) has never been particularly watertight in English.