aisleyoudaoicibaDictYouDict[aisle 词源字典]
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[aisle etymology, aisle origin, 英语词源]
antheryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
anther: [18] Greek ánthos originally meant ‘part of a plant which grows above ground’ (this was the basis of the Homeric ‘metaphor’ translated as ‘flower of youth’, which originally referred to the first growth of beard on young men’s faces). Later it narrowed somewhat to ‘flower’. The adjective derived from it was anthērós, which was borrowed into Latin as anthēra, a noun meaning ‘medicine made from flowers’.

In practice, herbalists often made such medicines from the reproductive part of the flower, and so anther came to be applied to the pollen-bearing part of the stamen. More remote semantically, but also derived from Greek ánthos, is anthology [17]. The second element represents Greek logíā ‘collecting’, a derivative of the verb legein ‘gather’ (which is related to legend and logic).

The notion of a collection of flowers, anthologíā, was applied metaphorically to a selection of choice epigrams or brief poems: borrowed into English, via French anthologie or medieval Latin anthologia, it was originally restricted to collections of Greek verse, but by the mid 19th century its application had broadened out considerably. The parallel Latin formation, florilegium, also literally ‘collection of flowers’, has occasionally been used in English for ‘anthology’.

=> anthology
anthraxyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
anthrax: [14] In Greek, anthrax means ‘coal’ (hence English anthracite [19]). The notion of a burning coal led to its being applied metaphorically to a very severe boil or carbuncle, and that is how it was first used in English. It was not until the late 19th century that the word came into general use, when it was applied to the bacterial disease of animals that had been described by Louis Pasteur (which produces large ulcers on the body).
=> anthracite
appealyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
appeal: [14] The ultimate Latin source of appeal, the verb adpellere (formed from the prefix ad- ‘to’ and pellere ‘drive’ – related to anvil, felt, and pulse), seems to have been used in nautical contexts in the sense ‘direct a ship towards a particular landing’. It was extended metaphorically (with a modification in form to appellāre) to mean ‘address’ or ‘accost’, and from these came two specific, legal, applications: ‘accuse’ and ‘call for the reversal of a judgment’. Appeal had both these meanings when it was first adopted into English from Old French apeler.

The former had more or less died out by the beginning of the 19th century, but the second has flourished and led to the more general sense ‘make an earnest request’. Peal [14], as in ‘peal of bells’, is an abbreviated form of appeal, and repeal [14] comes from the Old French derivative rapeler.

=> anvil, felt, peal, pulse, repeal
articleyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
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
bamboozleyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bamboozle: [18] Bamboozle is a mystery word. It first appears in 1703, in the writings of the dramatist Colly Cibber, and seven years later it was one of a list of the latest buzzwords cited by Jonathan Swift in the Tatler (others included bully, mob, and sham). It is probably a ‘cant’ term (a sort of low-life argot), and may perhaps be of Scottish origin; there was a 17th-century Scottish verb bombaze ‘perplex’, which may be the same word as bombace, literally ‘padding, stuffing’, but metaphorically ‘inflated language’ (the variant form bombast has survived into modern English).
=> bombast
barristeryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
barrister: [16] A barrister is a lawyer who has been ‘called to the bar’ – that is, admitted to plead as an advocate in the superior courts of England and Wales. This notion derives from the ancient practice of having in the inns of court a partition separating senior members from students, which barrier the students metaphorically passed when they qualified. The ending -ister was probably added on the analogy of such words as minister and chorister.
=> bar
bombastyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
bombast: [16] Bombast originally meant ‘cotton-wool’, especially as used for stuffing or padding clothes, upholstery, etc; hence, before the end of the 16th century, it had been transferred metaphorically to ‘pompous or turgid language’. The ultimate source of the word was Greek bómbux ‘silk, silkworm’, which came into English via Latin bombyx, bombax (source also of English bombazine [16]) and Old French bombace. The earliest English form was bombace, but it soon developed an additional final -t.
=> bombazine
botulismyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
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.
broachyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
broach: [14] The original meaning of broach was ‘pierce’, and it came from a noun meaning ‘spike’. The word’s ultimate source was the Latin adjective brocchus ‘pointed, projecting’, which in Vulgar Latin came to be used as a noun, *broca ‘spike’. This passed into Old French as broche, meaning ‘long needle’ and also ‘spit for roasting’. English first borrowed the word in the 13th century, as brooch, and then took it over again in the 14th century in the above quoted French meanings.

The nominal senses have now either died out or are restricted to technical contexts, but the verb, from the Vulgar Latin derivative *broccare, remains. From ‘pierce’, its meaning became specifically ‘tap a barrel’, which in the 16th century was applied metaphorically to ‘introduce a subject’. In French, the noun broche has produced a diminutive brochette ‘skewer’, borrowed into English in the 18th century; while a derivative of the verb brocher ‘stitch’ has been brochure, literally ‘a few pages stitched together’, also acquired by English in the 18th century.

A further relative is broccoli [17], plural of Italian broccolo ‘cabbage sprout’, a diminutive of brocco ‘shoot’, from Vulgar Latin *brocca.

=> broccoli, brochure, brooch
callowyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
callow: [OE] Old English calu meant ‘bald’. Eventually, the word came to be applied to young birds which as yet had no feathers, and by the late 16th century it had been extended metaphorically to any young inexperienced person or creature. It probably came, via West Germanic *kalwaz, from Latin calvus ‘bald’.
=> calvary
candidyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
candid: [17] Originally, candid meant simply ‘white’; its current sense ‘frank’ developed metaphorically via ‘pure’ and ‘unbiased’. English acquired the word, probably through French candide, from Latin candidum, a derivative of the verb candēre ‘be white, glow’ (which is related to English candle, incandescent, and incense).

The derived noun candour is 18th-century in English. Candida, the fungus which causes the disease thrush, got its name from being ‘white’. And in ancient Rome, people who were standing for election wore white togas; they were thus called candidāti, whence English candidate [17].

=> candidate, candle, incandescent, incense
cataractyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
cataract: [15] Greek kataráktēs meant literally ‘swooping down, rushing down’; it was a derivative of the verb katarássein, a compound formed from the prefix katá- ‘down’ (which appears in a wide range of English words, including cataclysm, catalepsy, catalogue, catapult – literally ‘hurl down’ – and catastrophe) and the verb rássein ‘strike’.

Hence it was applied metaphorically to various things that ‘rush down’, including waterfalls and portcullises. The word passed into English via Latin cataracta, and the sense ‘opacity of the eye’s lens’ developed in the 16th century, probably as a metaphorical extension of the now obsolete ‘portcullis’.

cellyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
cell: [12] Cell has branched out a lot over the centuries, but its original meaning seems to be ‘small secluded room’, for it comes ultimately from an Indo-European base *kel-, which is also the source of English conceal, clandestine, and occult. It came into English either via Old French celle or directly from Latin cella ‘small room, storeroom, inner room of a temple’, and at first was used mainly in the sense ‘small subsidiary monastery’.

It is not until the 14th century that we find it being used for small individual apartments within a monastic building, and the development from this to ‘room in a prison’ came as late as the 18th century. In medieval biology the term was applied metaphorically to bodily cavities, and from the 17th century onwards it began to be used in the more modern sense ‘smallest structural unit of an organism’ (the botanist Nehemiah Grew was apparently the first so to use it, in the 1670s).

A late Latin derivative of cella was cellārium ‘group of cells, storeroom’; this was the source of English cellar [13], via Anglo-Norman celer.

=> apocalypse, cellar, clandestine, conceal, hall, hell, hull, occult
centreyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
centre: [14] The word centre came originally from the spike of a pair of compasses which is stuck into a surface while the other arm describes a circle round it. Greek kéntron meant ‘sharp point’, or more specifically ‘goad for oxen’ (it was a derivative of the verb kentein ‘prick’), and hence was applied to a compass spike; and it was not long before this spread metaphorically to ‘mid-point of a circle’. The word reached English either via Old French centre or directly from Latin centrum. The derived adjective central is 16th-century.
=> eccentric
characteryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
character: [14] The ultimate source of character is Greek kharaktér, a derivative of the verb kharássein ‘sharpen, engrave, cut’, which in turn came from kharax ‘pointed stake’. Kharaktér meant ‘engraved mark’, and hence was applied metaphorically to the particular impress or stamp which marked one thing as different from another – its ‘character’. The word came into English via Latin charactēr and Old French caractere. Characteristic followed in the 17th century.
=> gash
chargeyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
charge: [13] The notion underlying the word charge is of a ‘load’ or ‘burden’ – and this can still be detected in many of its modern meanings, as of a duty laid on one like a load, or of the burden of an expense, which began as metaphors. It comes ultimately from Latin carrus ‘two-wheeled wagon’ (source also of English car). From this was derived the late Latin verb carricāre ‘load’, which produced the Old French verb charger and, via the intermediate Vulgar Latin *carrica, the Old French noun charge, antecedents of the English words.

The literal sense of ‘loading’ or ‘bearing’ has now virtually died out, except in such phrases as ‘charge your glasses’, but there are reminders of it in cargo [17], which comes from the Spanish equivalent of the French noun charge, and indeed in carry, descended from the same ultimate source. The origins of the verb sense ‘rush in attack’ are not altogether clear, but it may have some connection with the sense ‘put a weapon in readiness’.

This is now familiar in the context of firearms, but it seems to have been used as long ago as the 13th century with reference to arrows. The Italian descendant of late Latin carricāre was caricare, which meant not only ‘load’ but also, metaphorically, ‘exaggerate’. From this was derived the noun caricatura, which reached English via French in the 18th century as caricature.

=> car, cargo, caricature
chartyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
chart: [16] English card and chart are related. Both come from Latin charta ‘paper’, but whereas card was routed via French carte, and for some reason changed its t to a d, chart was borrowed directly from the Latin word, in which the meaning ‘map’ had already developed. Latin charta originally denoted ‘leaf of the papyrus plant’, and developed the sense ‘paper’ because paper was originally made from papyrus (indeed the English word paper comes from papyrus).

It came from Greek khártēs, which is probably of Egyptian origin. It has provided the basis of a number of other English words besides card and chart, including charter [13], which comes via Old French from Latin chartula, a diminutive form of charta; carton [19], which comes from a French derivative, and was originally used in English for the ‘white disc at the centre of a target’; and, via Italian carta, cartel, cartoon, cartouche, and cartridge. Cartel [16] comes via French from the Italian diminutive form cartello, which meant literally ‘placard’.

It was used metaphorically for ‘letter of defiance’, and entered English with the sense ‘written challenge’. The modern commercial sense comes from German kartell. Cartouche [17] comes via French from Italian cartoccio. It originally signified a ‘cartridge’, made from a roll or twist of paper; the modern architectural sense of ‘ornamental tablet’ arose from its original scroll-like shape. Cartridge [16] is an English modification of cartouche; an intermediate form was cartage.

=> card, cartel, carton, cartoon, cartouche, cartridge, charter
circusyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
circus: [16] Latin circus meant literally ‘ring, circle’, but it was applied metaphorically by the Romans to the circular arena in which performances and contests were held. That was the original signification of the word in English, applied in a strictly antiquarian sense to the ancient world, and it was not until the late 18th century that it began to be used for any circular arena and the entertainment staged therein.

The Latin word is related to, and may have come from, Greek kírkos; and it is also connected with Latin curvus, source of English curve. It has additionally been linked with Latin corōna ‘circlet’, from which English gets crown. And it is of course, via its accusative form circum, the starting point of a wide range of English words with the prefix circum-, from circumference to circumvent (in this category is circuit [14], which goes back to an original Latin compound verb circumīre, literally ‘go round’).

=> circle, circuit, circulate, crown, curve, search
citeyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
cite: [15] Latin ciēre or cīre meant ‘move’ (it was related to Greek kīnein ‘move’, source of English kinetic and cinema). From its past participle, citus, was formed the verb citāre, meaning ‘cause to move’, and hence ‘call, summon’. This passed into English (via Old French citer), as cite ‘summon officially’.

In the 16th century this came to be applied metaphorically to the ‘calling forth’ of a particular passage of writing, author, etc as an example or proof of what one is saying – hence the modern sense ‘quote’. The same Latin verb lies behind a range of other English verbs, including excite, incite, recite, and solicit.

=> cinema, excite, incite, kinetic, recite, solicit
clavieryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
clavier: [18] The Latin word for ‘key’ was clāvis (it was related to claudere ‘close’). Its application to the keys of a musical instrument has contributed two words to English: clavier, which came via French or German from an unrecorded Latin *clāviārius ‘key-bearer’; and clavichord [15], from medieval Latin clāvichordium, a compound of Latin clāvis and Latin chorda, source of English chord.

Its diminutive form clāvicula was applied metaphorically to the collar-bone (hence English clavicle [17]) on account of the bone’s resemblance to a small key. And in Latin, a room that could be locked ‘with a key’ was a conclāve – whence (via Old French) English conclave [14]. Also related to clāvis is cloy.

=> clavicle, close, cloy, conclave
climaxyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
climax: [16] Etymologically, a climax is a series of steps by which a goal is achieved, but in the late 18th century English, anticipating the culmination, started using it for the goal itself. It comes, via late Latin, from Greek klimax ‘ladder’, which was ultimately from the same source (the Indo-European base *kli-) as produced English lean. This came to be used metaphorically as a rhetorical term for a figure of speech in which a series of statements is arranged in order of increasing forcefulness, and hence for any escalating progression: ‘the top of the climax of their wickedness’, Edmund Burke 1793.

Whence modern English ‘high point’.

=> ladder, lean
colonyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
colon: There are two distinct words colon in English. Colon ‘part of the large intestine’ [16] comes via Latin from Greek kólon, which meant ‘food, meat’ as well as ‘large intestine’. Colon the punctuation mark [16] comes via Latin from Greek kōlon, which originally meant literally ‘limb’. It was applied metaphorically (rather like foot) to a ‘unit of verse’, and hence to a ‘clause’ in general, meanings which survive in English as technical terms. From there it was a short step to the main present-day meaning, ‘punctuation mark’.
cometyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
comet: [13] Comet means literally ‘the longhaired one’. Greek kómē meant ‘hair’, but it was also applied metaphorically to the tail of a comet, which was thought of as streaming out behind like a luxuriant head of hair being blown by the wind. Hence an astēr kométēs ‘longhaired star’ was the name given to a comet. Eventually the adjective kométēs came to stand for the whole phrase, and it passed via Latin comēta and Old French comete into English.
commayoudaoicibaDictYouDict
comma: [16] Greek kómma meant literally ‘piece cut off, segment’. It derived from the verb kóptein ‘cut’, relatives of which include Russian kopje ‘lance’, source of the coin-name kopeck, and probably English capon. Kómma came to be applied metaphorically, as a technical term in prosody, to a small piece of a sentence, a ‘short clause’, a sense which it retained when it reached English via Latin comma. It was not long before, like colon, it was applied to the punctuation mark signifying the end of such a clause.
=> capon, kopeck
complainyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
complain: [14] Complain goes back to the Latin in verb plangere, source also of English plangent. This was formed on a prehistoric base *plak- (from which we also get plankton), and it originally meant ‘hit’. Its meaning developed metaphorically through ‘beat one’s breast’ to ‘lament’, and in medieval Latin it was combined with the intensive prefix com- to produce complangere. When it entered English via Old French complaindre it still meant ‘lament’, and although this sense had died out by about 1700, traces of it remain in ‘complain of’ a particular illness. Complaint [14] came from Old French complainte.
=> plangent, plankton
contriveyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
contrive: [14] In Middle English, contrive was controve; it was not transformed into contrive (perhaps under the influence of Scottish pronunciation) until the 15th century. It came via Old French controver from Latin contropāre ‘represent metaphorically, compare’, a compound verb based on the prefix com- ‘too’ and tropus ‘figure of speech’ (source of English trope). The word’s meaning has progressed through ‘compare via a figure of speech’ and Old French ‘imagine’ to ‘devise’.
=> trope
crankyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
crank: [OE] There appears to be a link between the words crank, cringe, and crinkle. They share the meaning element ‘bending’ or ‘curling up’ (which later developed metaphorically into ‘becoming weak or sick’, as in the related German krank ‘ill’), and probably all came from a prehistoric Germanic base *krank-. In Old English the word crank appeared only in the compound crancstoef, the name for a type of implement used by weavers; it is not recorded in isolation until the mid-15th century, when it appears in a Latin-English dictionary as a translation of Latin haustrum ‘winch’.

The adjective cranky [18] is no doubt related, but quite how closely is not clear. It may derive from an obsolete thieves’ slang term crank meaning ‘person feigning sickness to gain money’, which may have connections with German krank. Modern English crank ‘cranky person’ is a backformation from the adjective, coined in American English in the 19th century.

=> cringe, crinkle
crateryoudaoicibaDictYouDict
crater: [17] Greek kratér meant ‘bowl’, or more specifically ‘mixing bowl’: it was a derivative of the base *kerā, which also produced the verb kerannúnai ‘mix’. (Crater or krater is still used in English as a technical term for the bowl or jar used by the ancient Greeks for mixing wine and water in.) Borrowed into Latin as crātēr, it came to be used metaphorically for the bowl-shaped depression at the mouth of a volcano. Its acquisition by English is first recorded in Samuel Purchas’s Pilgrimage 1619.
crazyyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
crazy: [16] Crazy originally meant literally ‘cracked’ (a sense preserved in the related crazed). This soon came to be extended metaphorically to ‘frail, ill’ (as in Shakespeare’s ‘some better place, fitter for sickness and crazy age’, 1 Henry VI), and thence to ‘mentally unbalanced’. It was derived from the verb craze [14], which was probably borrowed from an unrecorded Old Norse verb *krasa ‘shatter’ (likely source, too, of French écraser ‘crush, smash’).
croneyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
crone: [14] Crone has a rather macabre history. Essentially it is the same word as carrion. It began life in Latin carō ‘flesh’, which had a Vulgar Latin derivative *carōnia ‘carcass’. In Old Northern French this became carogne, which was applied metaphorically to a withered old woman (English carrion comes from the Anglo-Norman form caroine). Middle Dutch borrowed the word as croonje, applying it additionally to old ewes, and passed it on to English.
=> carrion
deltayoudaoicibaDictYouDict
delta: [16] Delta was the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet, corresponding to English d. Its capital form was written in the shape of a tall triangle, and already in the ancient world the word was being applied metaphorically to the triangular deposit of sand, mud, etc which forms at the mouth of rivers (the Greek historian Herodotus, for instance, used it with reference to the mouth of the Nile). Greek acquired the word itself from some Semitic language; it is related to dāleth, the name of the fourth letter of the Hebrew alphabet.
deskyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
desk: [14] Desk, disc, dish, and dais – strange bedfellows semantically – form a little gang of words going back ultimately, via Latin discus, to Greek dískos ‘quoit’. Desk seems perhaps the least likely descendant of ‘quoit’, but it came about like this: Latin discus was used metaphorically, on the basis of its circular shape, for a ‘tray’ or ‘platter, dish’; and when such a tray was set on legs, it became a table. (German tisch ‘table’ comes directly from Vulgar Latin in this sense.) By the time English acquired it from medieval Latin it seems already to have developed the specialized meaning ‘table for writing or reading on’.
=> dais, disc, dish
diapasonyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
diapason: [14] Diapason, a musical term now used mainly for the main stops on an organ, and also metaphorically for ‘range, scope’ in general, originally meant literally ‘through all’. It comes, via Latin diapāsōn, from the Greek phrase hē dia pasōn khordon sumphonía ‘concord through all the notes’: dia means ‘through’, and pasōn is the feminine genitive plural of pas ‘all’ (as in the English prefix pan- ‘all’).
dintyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
dint: [OE] Dint originally signified a ‘blow’ or ‘hit’, particularly one inflicted by a sword or similar weapon. Its meaning broadened out in the 14th century to ‘force of attack or impact’, and this is the source of the modern English phrase by dint of, which to begin with denoted ‘by force of’. In the 13th century a variant form dent arose, which by the 16th century had moved on metaphorically to the sense ‘depression made by a blow’.
dishyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
dish: [OE] Like dais, desk, and disc, dish comes ultimately from Greek dískos ‘quoit’. As their diversity of form and meaning suggests, they were acquired at various times and by various routes. English got dish around 700 AD from Latin discus, in which the original meaning ‘quoit’ had been extended metaphorically to ‘tray, platter, dish’ on the basis of the semantic features ‘roundness’ and ‘flatness’.
=> dais, desk, disc
drenchyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
drench: [OE] Originally, drench meant simply ‘cause to drink’. It comes ultimately from the prehistoric Germanic verb *drangkjan, which was a causative variant of *drengkan (source of English drink) – that is to say, it denoted ‘causing someone to do the action of the verb drink’. That particular sense now survives only as a technical usage in veterinary medicine, but already by the Middle English period it had moved on metaphorically to ‘drown’ (now obsolete, and succeeded by the related drown) and ‘soak thoroughly’.
=> drink, drown
dubyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
dub: English has two words dub. By far the older, ‘create a knight, name’ [11], was one of the first linguistic fruits of the Norman conquest, which was during the Middle English period to contribute such a vast number of French words to the English language. It came from Anglo- Norman duber, which was a reduced form of aduber, the Anglo-Norman version of Old French adober.

This meant ‘equip, repair, arrange’, but also specifically ‘equip with armour’, which led metaphorically to ‘confer the rank of knighthood on’. The sense ‘arrange’ has remained in use in various technical areas up to the present time, and its application to the dressing of leather with grease formed the basis of the noun dubbin ‘mixture of oil and tallow for softening and waterproofing leather’ [18]. Dub ‘insert soundtrack’ [20] is a shortened version of double.

=> dubbin; double
dunyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
dun: English has two words dun. The colour adjective, ‘greyish brown’ [OE], comes ultimately from Indo-European *donnos, *dusnos, which is also the source of English dusk. The now rather dated noun, ‘debtcollector’ [17], is an abbreviation of dunkirk, a 17th-century term for a ‘privateer’, a privately owned vessel officially allowed to attack enemy shipping during wartime.

It was originally applied from such privateers that sailed from the port of Dunkirk, on the northern coast of France, to attack British ships, and its connotations of unwarranted piracy soon spread metaphorically to one who was constantly importuning for the repayment of his loan.

=> donkey, dusk, obfuscate
dunceyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
dunce: [16] Dunce originated as a contemptuous term for those who continued in the 16th century to adhere to the theological views of the Scottish scholar John Duns Scotus (c. 1265–1308). Renaissance philosophers ridiculed them as narrow-minded hair-splitters, and so before long the application of the word spread metaphorically to any ‘stuffy pedant’ in general, and hence, through the implication of a lack of true intellect, to ‘stupid person’. The conical dunce’s cap seems to have originated in the 19th century.
earnyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
earn: [OE] The underlying sense of earn is ‘gain as a result of one’s labour’. It comes from a prehistoric West Germanic verb *aznōjan, which was based on the noun *aznu ‘work, labour’. This seems often to have been used specifically for ‘work in the fields’, for several other related forms in the Germanic languages, such as German ernte and Gothic asans, denote ‘harvest’, which in some cases has been metaphorically extended to apply to ‘autumn’.
effeteyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
effete: [17] Latin effētus meant literally ‘that has given birth’. It was a compound adjective, based on the prefix ex- ‘out’ and fētus ‘childbearing, offspring’ (source of English foetus). Its use spread metaphorically first to ‘worn out by giving birth’ and finally to simply ‘exhausted’, the senses in which English originally acquired it. The word’s modern connotations of ‘overrefinement’ and ‘decadence’ did not develop until the 19th century.
emblemyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
emblem: [15] The Latin term emblēma referred to ‘inlaid work’ – designs formed by setting some material such as wood or ivory, or enamel, into a contrasting surface. This usage survived into English as a conscious archaism (‘The ground more colour’d then with stone of costliest emblem’, John Milton, Paradise Lost 1667), but for the most part English has used the word metaphorically, for a ‘design which symbolizes something’.

The Latin word was borrowed from Greek émblēma, a derivative of embállein ‘throw in, put in, insert’. This was a compound verb formed from the prefix en- ‘in’ and bállein ‘throw’ (source of the second syllable of English problem, and closely related to that of symbol).

=> problem, symbol
emotionyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
emotion: [16] The semantic notion underlying emotion – of applying ‘physical movement’ metaphorically to ‘strong feeling’ – is an ancient one: Latin used the phrase mōtus animā, literally ‘movement of the spirit’, in this sense. Emotion itself is a post-classical Latin formation; it comes ultimately from Vulgar Latin *exmovēre, literally ‘move out’, hence ‘excite’, a compound verb formed from the prefix ex- ‘out’ and movēre ‘move’ (source of English move).

In French this became émouvoir, and English borrowed its derived noun émotion, but at first used it only in the literal sense ‘moving, agitation’ (‘The waters continuing in the caverns … caused the emotion or earthquake’, Philosophical transactions of the Royal Society 1758) and the metaphorically extended ‘political agitation or disturbance’ (a sense now preserved only in émeute [19], another derivative of French émouvoir).

It was not until the late 17th century that the sense ‘strong feeling’ really came to the fore. The back-formation emote is a 20th-century phenomenon, of US origin.

=> émeute, move
empireyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
empire: [13] Empire and its close relatives emperor [13], imperial [14], imperious [16], and imperative [16] all come ultimately from the Latin verb imperāre ‘command’. This was a compound verb formed from the prefix in- ‘in relation to’ and parāre ‘make ready’ (source of English prepare), and hence originally meant ‘make preparations for’ before shifting metaphorically to ‘issue commands for’.

Of its derivatives, imperātor (source of English emperor) was used originally for ‘commander of an army’, and only secondarily for the ruler of the Roman empire, while the primary sense of imperium (source of English empire) was ‘a command’, and hence ‘authority’.

=> imperative, imperial, prepare
escapeyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
escape: [14] Originally, escape meant literally ‘take off one’s cloak’, and signified metaphorically ‘throw off restraint’ – much as we might say unbutton. The word appears to come ultimately from Vulgar Latin *excappāre, a hypothetical compound verb formed from the prefix ex- ‘out, off’ and cappa ‘cloak’ (source of English cape). This passed into Old Northern French as escaper (immediate source of the English word), by which time the metaphor had progressed from ‘throwing off restraint’ to ‘gaining one’s liberty’.
=> cape
evolutionyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
evolution: [17] Evolution originally meant simply ‘unfolding’, or metaphorically ‘development’; it was not used in its main current sense, ‘gradual change in form of a species over the centuries’, until the early 19th century. The Scottish geologist Charles Lyell appears to have been the first to do so, in his Principles of Geology 1832, and it was subsequently taken up by Charles Darwin.

The word comes from Latin ēvolūtiō, which denoted specifically the unrolling of a papyrus or parchment roll. It was a derivative of ēvolvere, a compound formed from the prefix ex- ‘out’ and volvere ‘roll’ (source also of English convolution, involve, and revolve and related to vault, voluble, volume, vulva, and wallow).

=> convolution, involve, revolve, volume, wallow
excrementyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
excrement: [16] Latin excrēmentum meant originally ‘that which is sifted out’ (it was a derivative of the verb excernere, a compound formed from the prefix ex- ‘out’ and cernere ‘sift, decide’, from which English gets certain). Hence it was applied metaphorically to any substance that is excreted from or secreted by the body, including sweat, nasal mucus, and milk, as well as faeces. (English acquired excrete [17], incidentally, from the past participle of excernere, excrētus.) This very general sense survived in English into the mid 18th century, when it was finally ousted by the more specific ‘faeces’. (Increment, by the way, is a completely unrelated word, coming ultimately from Latin crēscere ‘grow’.)
=> certain, crime, critic, discern, discriminate, secret
expectyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
expect: [16] Someone who expects something literally ‘looks out’ for it. The word comes from Latin expectāre, a compound verb formed from the prefix ex- ‘out’ and spectāre ‘look’ (source of English spectacle, spectre, spectrum, and speculate). Already in Latin the literal ‘look out’ had shifted metaphorically to ‘look forward to, anticipate’ and ‘await’, meanings adopted wholesale by English (‘await’ has since been dropped).
=> espionage, spectacle, speculate, spy
expressyoudaoicibaDictYouDict
express: [14] Something that is expressed is literally ‘pressed out’. The word comes via Old French from Vulgar Latin *expressāre, a compound verb formed from the prefix ex- ‘out’ and pressāre ‘press’. Its meaning developed metaphorically from ‘press out’ to ‘form by pressure’ (presumably applied originally to modelling in clay or some similar substance, and subsequently to sculpture and then painting), and finally to ‘make known in words’.

The Vulgar Latin verb was in fact moving in on territory already occupied by its classical Latin forerunner exprimere (source of French exprimer ‘express’ and perhaps of English sprain [17]). The past participle of this was expressus, used adjectivally for ‘prominent, distinct, explicit’. Old French took it over as expres and passed it on to English in the 14th century.

By now its meaning was moving towards ‘intended for a particular purpose’, and in the 19th century it was applied to ‘special’ trains (as in ‘football specials’). It did not take long, however, for this to slip via ‘train for people wanting to go to a particular place, and therefore not stopping anywhere else’ to ‘fast train’. Hence the modern sense of express, ‘fast’, was born.

=> espresso, press, sprain