英语词源字典 - 在线词源网站

admit: admit: [15] This is one of a host of words, from mission to transmit, to come down to English from Latin mittere ‘send’. Its source, admittere, meant literally ‘send to’, hence ‘allow to enter’. In the 15th and 16th centuries the form amit was quite common, borrowed from French amettre, but learned influence saw to it that the more ‘correct’ Latin form prevailed.
=> commit, mission, transmit
aegis: aegis: [18] The notion of ‘protection’ contained in this word goes back to classical mythology, in which one of the functions or attributes of the Greek god Zeus (and later of Roman Jupiter or Minerva) was the giving of protection. This was usually represented visually as a shield, traditionally held to be made of goatskin – hence Greek aigís, the name of the shield, came to be associated in the popular imagination with aix (aig- in its stem form), the Greek word for ‘goat’. English borrowed the word directly from Latin.
agitate: agitate: [16] Agitate is one of a host of English words descended ultimately from Latin agere (see AGENT). Among the many meanings of agere was ‘drive, move’, and a verb derived from it denoting repeated action, agitāre, hence meant ‘move to and fro’. This physical sense of shaking was present from the start in English agitate, but so was the more metaphorical ‘perturb’.

The notion of political agitation does not emerge until the early 19th century, when the Marquis of Anglesey is quoted as saying to an Irish deputation: ‘If you really expect success, agitate, agitate, agitate!’ In this meaning, a derivative of Latin agitāre has entered English via Russian in agitprop ‘political propaganda’ [20], in which agit is short for agitatsiya ‘agitation’.
=> act, agent
agony: agony: [14] Agony is one of the more remote relatives of that prolific Latin verb agere (see AGENT). Its ultimate source is the Greek verb ágein ‘lead’, which comes from the same Indo- European root as agere. Related to ágein was the Greek noun agón, originally literally ‘a bringing of people together to compete for a prize’, hence ‘contest, conflict’ (which has been borrowed directly into English as agon, a technical term for the conflict between the main characters in a work of literature).

Derived from agón was agōníā ‘(mental) struggle, anguish’, which passed into English via either late Latin agōnia or French agonie. The sense of physical suffering did not develop until the 17th century; hitherto, agony had been reserved for mental stress. The first mention of an agony column comes in the magazine Fun in 1863.
=> antagonist
aisle: 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
almanac: almanac: [14] One of the first recorded uses of almanac in English is by Chaucer in his Treatise on the astrolabe 1391: ‘A table of the verray Moeuyng of the Mone from howre to howre, every day and in every signe, after thin Almenak’. At that time an almanac was specifically a table of the movements and positions of the sun, moon, and planets, from which astronomical calculations could be made; other refinements and additions, such as a calendar, came to be included over succeeding centuries.

The earliest authenticated reference to an almanac comes in the (Latin) works of the English scientist Roger Bacon, in the mid 13th century. But the ultimate source of the word is obscure. Its first syllable, al-, and its general relevance to medieval science and technology, strongly suggest an Arabic origin, but no convincing candidate has been found.
amaze: amaze: [OE] Old English āmasian meant ‘stupefy’ or ‘stun’, with perhaps some reminiscences of an original sense ‘stun by hitting on the head’ still adhering to it. Some apparently related forms in Scandinavian languages, such as Swedish masa ‘be sluggish’ and Norwegian dialect masast ‘become unconscious’, suggest that it may originally have been borrowed from Old Norse.

The modern sense ‘astonish’ did not develop until the end of the 16th century; Shakespeare was one of its earliest exponents: ‘Crystal eyes, whose full perfection all the world amazes’, Venus and Adonis 1592. By the end of the 13th century both the verb and its related noun had developed a form without the initial a-, and in the late 14th century the word – maze – had begun to be applied to a deliberately confusing structure.
=> maze
ammunition: ammunition: [17] Ammunition is one of many words which resulted from a mistaken analysis of ‘article’ plus ‘noun’ (compare ADDER). In this case, French la munition ‘the munitions, the supplies’ was misapprehended as l’ammunition, and borrowed thus into English. At first it was used for military supplies in general, and it does not seem to have been until the beginning of the 18th century that its meaning became restricted to ‘bullets, shells, etc’.

The word munition itself was borrowed into English from French in the 16th century. It originally meant ‘fortification’, and came from the Latin noun mūnītiō; this was a derivative of the verb munīre, ‘defend, fortify’, which in turn was based on the noun moenia ‘walls, ramparts’ (related to mūrus ‘wall’, the source of English mural).

Also from munīre, via medieval Latin mūnīmentum, comes muniment [15], a legal term for ‘title deed’; the semantic connection is that a title deed is a means by which someone can ‘defend’ his or her legal right to property.
=> muniment, munition, mural
audible: audible: [16] Audible is one of a wide range of English words based ultimately on the Latin verb audīre ‘hear’ (which came from the Indo- European root *awiz-, source also of Greek aithánesthai ‘perceive’ and Sanskrit āvis ‘evidently’). Others include audience [14], audio- [20], audit [15] (from Latin audītus ‘hearing’; audits were originally done by reading the accounts out loud), audition [16], and auditorium [17].
=> obey, oyez
augur: augur: [14] In Roman times, an augur was someone who foretold the future by observing the flight of birds (or by examining their entrails). His method of divination was reflected in his title, for the Latin word augur, earlier auger, seems to have meant literally ‘one who performs with birds’, from avis ‘bird’ (as in English aviary [16] and aviation [19]) and gerere ‘do, perform’ (as in English gestation, gesture, gerund, digest, and suggest). (A parallel formation is auspice [16], whose Latin antecedent auspex meant ‘one who observed the flight of birds’; it was compounded from avis and the verb specere ‘look’, which is related to English species and spy.) A Latin derivative was the verb inaugurāre ‘foretell the future from the flight of birds’, which was applied to the installation of someone of office after the appropriate omens had been determined; by the time it reached English as inaugurate [17], the association with divination had been left far behind.
=> aviary, aviation, inaugurate
avarice: avarice: [13] The Latin verb avēre meant ‘covet’. One of its derivatives was the adjective avārus ‘greedy’, from which the noun avāritia was formed. This entered English via Old French avarice. Another of its derivatives was the adjective avidus ‘greedy’ which, as well as being the source of English avid [18], produced, via a hypothetical contracted form *audus, the adjective audax ‘bold’, source of English audacity [15].
=> audacity, avid
ballyhoo: ballyhoo: [20] Ballyhoo remains an etymological mystery, but there is no shortage of suggested candidates as its source: an Irish village called Ballyhooly; an old nautical slang word ballyhoo meaning ‘unseaworthy vessel’, which seems to have been an anglicization of Spanish balahú ‘schooner’; and the bizarre late- 19th-century ballyhoo bird, a fake bird made of wood and cardboard and intended to fool a birdhunter. None of them, alas, seems remotely relevant to ballyhoo’s original American sense, ‘barker’s patter outside a circus tent, to encourage people to enter’.
bamboozle: 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
ban: 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
big: big: [13] Big is one of the notorious mystery words of English etymology – extremely common in the modern language, but of highly dubious origin. In its earliest use in English it meant ‘powerful, strong’, and it is not really until the 16th century that we get unequivocal examples of it in the modern sense ‘large’. It occurs originally in northern texts, only slowly spreading south, which suggests that it may be of Scandinavian origin; some have compared Norwegian dialect bugge ‘important man’.
birth: birth: [12] Old English had a word gebyrd ‘birth’ which survived until the end of the 13th century as birde, but it was quite distinct from (though related to) modern English birth, which was borrowed from Old Norse byrth. This came from the same Germanic stem (*ber-, *bur-) as produced bear, bairn, and indeed Old English gebyrd. The suffix -th denotes a process, or the result of a process: hence birth is ‘(the result of) the process of bearing a child’. Along with bath and death it is one of the most ancient words formed with -th.
=> bairn, bear, berth
bogey: 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).
boycott: boycott: [19] The word boycott sprang into general use in the year 1880, to describe the activities of the Irish Land League. This was an organization set up in 1879 by the Irish nationalist Michael Davitt to press for agrarian reforms, rent reductions, etc. Those who did not agree with its aims, it subjected to an organized campaign of ostracism. One of the first to suffer from this was one Captain Charles Cunningham Boycott (1832–97), a British estate manager in County Mayo. Hence ‘to boycott’, which became a buzzword of the early 1880s, was quickly adopted by other European languages, and has remained in current use ever since.
brigade: brigade: [17] Brigade is one of a small set of words (others are brigand and brigantine) which go back to Italian briga ‘strife’. It is not clear where this came from; theories have centred either on a Celtic origin, comparing Old Irish brig ‘strength’, or on a derivation from the Indo- European base *bhreg-, which produced English break.

Either way, the noun briga produced the verb brigare ‘contend, brawl’, from which in turn came the noun brigata. This originally meant simply ‘crowd or gang of people’, but soon developed the special sense ‘military company’. English acquired the word via French brigade. Meanwhile, the present participle of the Italian verb had given brigante, which English borrowed via Old French as brigand [14], and the diminutive brigantino ‘fighting ship’, source of English brigantine [16] (abbreviated in the 18th century to brig). Brigadier is a 17th-century adoption, from French.
=> brig, brigand, brigantine
brilliant: brilliant: [17] Brilliant comes from French brilliant, the present participle of briller ‘shine’. French borrowed the verb from Italian brillare, but it is not altogether clear where Italian got it from. One theory is that it came from Vulgar Latin *bērillāre, a derivative of bērillus ‘precious stone’ (whence English beryl [13]). The source of the Latin noun was Greek bérullos, which may have come from one of the Indo-European languages of India (Sanskrit vaidūrya ‘cat’s-eye’ has been compared).
bug: bug: [14] Originally, bug meant ‘something frightening’ – and in fact one of the earliest known uses of the word was for what we would now call a ‘scare-crow’. It is one of a set of words (others are bogle and perhaps bugaboo) for alarming or annoying phenomena, usually supernatural, whose interrelationship and ultimate source have never been adequately explained (see BOGEY). Bug ‘insect’ [16] is probably the same word, although it has also been connected with Old English budd ‘beetle’. The meanings ‘defect’ (from the 19th century) and ‘germ’ and ‘hidden microphone’ (both 20th-century) all developed from ‘insect’.
bust: bust: There are two different words bust in English. The one meaning ‘break’ [18] is simply an alteration of burst. Bust ‘sculpture of head and chest’ [17] comes via French buste from Italian busto ‘upper body’, of uncertain origin (Latin had the temptingly similar bustum ‘monument on a tomb’, but this does not seem to fit in with the word’s primary sense ‘upper body’).

In English, application of the word to the human chest probably developed in the 18th century (one of the earliest examples is from Byron’s Don Juan 1819: ‘There was an Irish lady, to whose bust I ne’er saw justice done’), although as late as the early 19th century it could still be used with reference to men’s chests, and had not become particularized to female breasts: ‘His naked bust would have furnished a model for a statuary’, Washington Irving, A tour on the prairies 1835.
camp: camp: [16] Latin campus meant ‘open field’. It branched out into various more specialized meanings. One of them, for example, was ‘battle field’: this was borrowed into the Germanic languages as ‘battle’ (German has kampf, for instance, as in the title of Adolf Hitler’s book Mein Kampf ‘My struggle’). Another was ‘place for military exercises’, and this seems to have developed, in the word’s passage via Italian campo and French camp, to ‘place where troops are housed’.

English got the word from French. Camp ‘mannered, effeminate’ [20] is presumably a different word, but its origins are obscure. Latin campus itself was adopted in English in the 18th century for the ‘grounds of a college’. It was originally applied to Princeton university in the USA.
=> campaign, champion, decamp, scamp
canary: canary: [16] Small green finches (Serinus canarius) native to the Canary Islands were introduced as cage birds in England in the 16th century (the domestic breed is now for the most part yellow). They were called, naturally enough, canary birds, and by the mid 17th century this had become simply canary. The Canaries, a group of Spanish islands in the Atlantic off the northwest coast of Africa, got their name because one of them was famous in Roman times for a large breed of dog found there (Latin canārius ‘of dogs’ was a derivative of canís, source of English canine, chenille, and kennel and related to English hound).
=> canine, chenille, hound, kennel
candle: candle: [OE] Candle is one of the earliest English borrowings from Latin. It probably arrived with Christianity at the end of the 6th century, and is first recorded in a gloss from around the year 700. Latin candēla was a derivative of the verb candēre ‘be white, glow’, also the source of English candid and related to incandescent and incense. Candelabrum [19] is a Latin derivative. The Christian feast of Candlemas [OE] (February 2) gets its name from the blessing of church candles on that day.
=> candelabrum, candid, incandescent, incense
castle: castle: [11] Castle was one of the first words borrowed by the English from their Norman conquerors: it is mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon chronicle only nine years after the battle of Hastings. It comes via Anglo-Norman castel from Latin castellum, a diminutive form of castrum ‘fort’ (which was acquired by Old English as ceaster, and now appears in English place-names as -caster or -chester). The Old French version of castel, chastel, produced modern French château, and also its derivative châtelaine, borrowed into English in the 19th century.
=> château
chickpea: chickpea: [18] Chickpeas have nothing to do with chickens, and only remotely anything to do with peas (they are both legumes). The word comes ultimately from Latin cicer (the name of the Roman orator Cicero is based on it – one of his ancestors must have had a chickpea-shaped wart). That came into English in the 14th century, by way of Old French, as chich, and chich remained for several centuries the name of the vegetable. The French, meanwhile, noting the leguminous resemblance, had taken to calling it pois chiche, which the English duly translated in the 16th century as chich-pea. Later, folk-etymology transformed chich to chick.
chocolate: chocolate: [17] Chocolate is one of the contributions made to English by the Nahuatl language of the Aztec people. Their xocolatl was a compound noun formed from xococ ‘bitter’ and atl ‘water’, and therefore when first adopted by European languages (via Spanish) it was used for the drink ‘chocolate’. This was its original sense in English, and it was not for half a century or more that it came to be applied to solid, edible ‘chocolate’.
cholera: cholera: [14] Greek kholéra originally meant ‘illness caused by choler, bilious attack’; it was a derivative of kholé ‘bile’ (which is related to English gall). Passing into Latin as cholera, it began to be used for ‘bile’ itself, both in the physiological sense and as representing one of the four ancient humours, ‘anger’. It had that sense when first adopted into English, and into French, where it became colère (source of English choler [14]).

It was revived as a term for a severe digestive disorder, involving vomiting, diarrhoea, etc, in the 17th century, and in the 19th century was applied (from the similarity of the symptoms) to the often fatal infectious disease caused by the bacterium Vibrio comma.
=> gall, melancholy
coach: coach: [16] Coach is one of the few English words borrowed from Hungarian. It comes (via French coche and German kutsche) from Hungarian kocsi, an adjective meaning ‘of Kocs’ (Kocs is a village in north-east Hungary, between Budapest and Györ, where carriages, carts, etc were made). In Hungarian the original full form was kocsi szeker ‘cart from Kocs’. The modern sense ‘instructor, trainer’ originated in 19th-century university slang, the notion being that the student was conveyed through the exam by the tutor as if he were riding in a carriage.
cockle: cockle: [14] The cockle is related etymologically to another mollusc, the conch: they both began life in Greek kónkhē – which meant ‘mussel’ as well as ‘conch’. From this was formed the diminutive konkhúlion ‘small variety of conch’ – hence ‘cockle’. The Greek word subsequently became reduced to kokhúlion, whose plural passed into medieval Latin as *cochilia.

Next in the chain was Old French coquille, source of the English word. The origin of the phrase cockles of one’s heart (first recorded in the mid 17th century) are not clear: some have claimed that the heart resembles a cockle shell, or more specifically that the fibres of the heart muscle spiral like the lines on a cockle shell, while others note a supposed resemblance of cockle to corculum, a Latin diminutive of cor ‘heart’, and others again point out that the scientific name for the cockle is Cardium, from Greek kardíā ‘heart’, but none of these explanations really carries conviction.
=> conch
colony: colony: [16] Etymologically, a colony is a ‘settled land’. The word goes back ultimately to the Indo-European base *qwel-, *qwol-, which signified ‘move around’ (it is the source of English cycle and wheel) and hence ‘move habitually in, settle in, inhabit’. One of the descendants of this base was Latin colere ‘inhabit, cultivate’. Thus someone who settled on a new piece of land and cultivated it was a colōnus, and the land he settled was his colōnia. (The German city of Cologne gets its name from Latin colōnia; in Roman times it was called Colōnia Agrippīna, the ‘settlement or colony of Agrippa’.)
=> cycle, wheel
come: come: [OE] Come is of course one of the basic words of English, and its history goes back to the language’s Indo-European roots. Here its distant ancestor was the base *gwem-, which also produced Greek baínein ‘go, walk’ (related to English base and basis) and Latin venīre ‘come’ (source of a whole range of English words from adventure to venue). The prehistoric Germanic descendant of *gwem- was *kweman or *kuman, which has produced German kommen, Dutch komen, Swedish komma, and English come. The compound become (source of comely) was formed in Germanic in prehistoric times.
=> adventure, base, basis, become, venue
conceive: conceive: [13] Conceive is one of a number of English words (deceive, perceive, and receive are others) whose immediate source is the Old French morpheme -ceiv-. This goes back ultimately to Latin capere ‘take’ (source of English capture), which when prefixed became -cipere. In the case of conceive, the compound verb was concipere, where the prefix com- had an intensive force; it meant generally ‘take to oneself’, and hence either ‘take into the mind, absorb mentally’ or ‘become pregnant’ – meanings transmitted via Old French conceivre to English conceive.

The noun conceit [14] is an English formation, based on the models of deceit and receipt. Conception [13], however, goes back to the Latin derivative conceptiō.
=> capture, conceit, conception, deceive, perceive, receive
contact: contact: [17] The underlying notion of contact is not surprisingly one of ‘touching’. It comes ultimately from Latin tangere ‘touch’, source of English tactile, tangent, and tangible. Using the prefix com- ‘together’ this was formed into a compound verb contangere ‘touch, border on’, whose past participle contāctus was borrowed into English, originally as a noun (its use as a verb is a surprisingly late development, which did not happen until the late 19th century). Also derived from Latin contangere is contagion [14], and contaminate is probably related.
=> contagion, contaminate, tactile, tangent, tangible
conundrum: conundrum: [16] Conundrum originally appeared in all manner of weird and wonderful guises – conimbrum, conuncrum, quonundrum, connunder, etc – before settling down to conundrum in the late 18th century. It bears all the marks of one of the rather heavy-handed quasi-Latin joke words beloved of scholars in the 16th and 17th centuries, and a mid-17thcentury commentator attributed it to Oxford university. At first it meant ‘whim’ and then ‘pun’; the current sense ‘puzzling problem’ did not develop until the end of the 18th century.
crescent: crescent: [14] Crescent is one of a wide range of words (including create, crescendo, concrete, crew, accretion, croissant, increase, and recruit) bequeathed to English by the Latin verb crēscere ‘grow’. In the case of crescent, it came in the form of the present participial stem crēscent-, which passed into English via Old French creissant and Anglo-Norman cressaunt.

Its use in the Latin phrase luna crescens ‘waxing moon’ led later to its application to the shape of the new moon, hence the modern meaning of crescent. The modern French form croissant has given English the term for a crescent-shaped puffpastry roll [19], so named allegedly from its original manufacture following the defeat of the Turkish besiegers of Budapest in 1686, whose Muslim symbol was the crescent.
=> accretion, create, creature, crew, croissant, increase, recruit
crime: crime: [14] Crime is one of a wide range of English words (including certain, crisis, critic, decree, discern, discrete, discriminate, excrement, riddle ‘sieve’, secret, and secretary) which come ultimately from or are related to the Greek verb krínein ‘decide’. This was a relative of Latin cernere ‘decide’, from whose root evolved the noun crīmen ‘judgment, accusation, illegal act’. This passed via Old French crimne (later crime) into English, where traces of the original meaning ‘accusation’ survived until the 17th century.
=> certain, critic, decree, discriminate, excrement, secret
crumpet: crumpet: [17] An isolated late 14th-century instance of the phrase crompid cake suggests that etymologically a crumpet may be literally a ‘curled-up’ cake, crompid perhaps being related to Old English crumb ‘crooked’. This was one of a wide range of closely related words descended from the Germanic base *kram- or *krem-, denoting ‘pressure’ (see CRAM). The colloquial application of the word to ‘women considered as sexually desirable’ seems to date from the 1930s.
=> cram
cupidity: cupidity: [15] The Latin verb cupere meant ‘desire’ (related forms such as Sanskrit kup- ‘become agitated’, Church Slavonic kypeti ‘boil’, and Latvian kūpēt ‘boil, steam’ suggest that its underlying notion is ‘agitation’). One of its derivatives was the noun cupīdō ‘desire’, which was used as the name of the Roman god of love – hence English cupid [14]. Another was the adjective cupidus ‘desirous’, which produced the further noun cupiditās, source, perhaps via French, of English cupidity, and also ultimately of English covet. Concupiscence [14] also comes from Latin cupere.
=> concupiscence, covet
cycle: cycle: [14] Cycle is one of a wide range of English words (including pole, colony, and cult) which go back ultimately to the Indo-European base *qwel-, *qwol-, which signified ‘move around’. Its reduplicated form, *qweqwlo-, produced English wheel, Sanskrit cakrá- ‘wheel, circle’ (ultimate source of the polo term chukker [19]), and Greek kúklos ‘circle’.

English acquired this via French cycle or late Latin cyclus. Its use as a cover term for bicycles, tricycles, etc (of which words in this context it is an abbreviation) dates from the late 19th century. Related forms in English include cyclone ‘mass of rapidly circulating wind’ [19] (probably a modification of Greek kúklōma), cyclamen [16] (so named from its bulbous roots), and encyclopedia. _ BICYCLE, CHUKKER, COLONY, CULT, ENCYCLOPEDIA, POLE, WHEEL.
dago: dago: [18] Dago originated in the USA as a contemptuous term for a Spanish-speaking person. It is an alteration of Diego (the Spanish version of James), a common Spanish forename, which itself was used in English in the 17th century for ‘Spaniard’: ‘Next follows one whose lines aloft do raise Don Coriat, chief Diego of our days’. By the late 19th century the application of dago had broadened out to include anyone of Spanish, Portuguese, or Italian descent.
=> james
dahlia: dahlia: [19] The dahlia was named in 1791 in honour of Anders Dahl, an 18th-century Swedish botanist who discovered the plant in Mexico in 1788. The first record of the term in English is from 1804. During the 19th century it was used for a particular shade of red: ‘One of the many ugly shades that are to be worn this season is dahlia’, Pall Mall Gazette 29 September 1892.
dear: dear: [OE] Dear is one of the English language’s more semantically stable words. By the 11th century it had already developed its two major present-day senses, ‘much-loved’ and ‘expensive’, which are shared by its Germanic relative, German teuer (Dutch has differentiated dier ‘much loved’ from duur ‘expensive’). All these words go back to a prehistoric West and North Germanic *deurjaz, whose ultimate origin is not known.

In the 13th century an abstract noun, dearth, was derived from the adjective. It seems likely that this originally meant ‘expensiveness’ (although instances of this sense, which has since disappeared, are not recorded before the late 15th century). This developed to ‘period when food is expensive, because scarce’, and eventually to ‘scarcity’ generally.
=> dearth
delicate: delicate: [14] Delicate comes either from Old French delicat or direct from its source, Latin dēlicātus, but its ultimate history is obscure. Its formal similarity to delicious and delight, and the fact that ‘addicted to pleasure’ was one of the meanings of Latin dēlicātus, suggest that the three words may have an ancestor in common. Delicatessen [19] was borrowed from German delikatessen, plural of delikatesse ‘delicacy’, which in turn was acquired by German from French délicatesse.
=> delicatessen
demure: demure: [14] Etymologically, someone who is demure is quiet and settled, not agitated. The word comes from demore, the past participle of Old French demorer ‘stay’ (source of English demur), and so semantically is a parallel formation to staid. One of its earliest recorded uses in English was actually to describe the sea as ‘calm’, and it was not until the late 17th century that its modern slightly pejorative connotations of coyness began to emerge.
=> demur
denouement: denouement: [18] A denouement is literally an ‘untying of a knot’. It was borrowed from French (its first recorded use in English is by Lord Chesterfield in one of his famous letters to his son (1752)), where it was a derivative of dénouer ‘undo’. This was a compound verb formed from the prefix dé- ‘un-’ and nouer ‘tie’, which came ultimately from Latin nōdus ‘knot’ (source of English newel, node, nodule, and noose).
=> newel, node, nodule, noose
diabetes: diabetes: [16] Diabetes means literally ‘passing through’; it was originally so named in Greek because one of the symptoms of the disease is excessive discharge of urine. Greek diabétēs was a derivative of diabaínein ‘pass through’, a compound verb formed from the prefix dia- ‘through’ and baínein ‘go’ (a relative of English basis and come). English acquired it via medieval Latin diabētēs. Compare DIARRHOEA.
=> basis, come
diverse: diverse: [13] Diverse is one of a small family of English words, including also divers, divert, and divorce, which come ultimately from Latin dīvertere. This was a compound verb formed from the prefix dis- ‘aside’ and vertere ‘turn’ (source of English verse, version, vertebra, etc and related to worth), and hence meant literally ‘turn aside, turn out of the way’.

It developed in various metaphorical directions, however. One was ‘turn one’s husband or wife out of the way’ which, via the variant dīvortere, gave English divorce [14]. The central sense of the verb passed more or less unchanged into English, via French divertir, as divert [15], but its past participle diversus illustrates a further metaphorical strand, in which ‘turned aside’ has become ‘separate, different’.

English acquired this via Old French in the 13th century in two distinct forms: masculine divers and feminine diverse. The present-day semantic distinction between the former (‘various, several’) and the latter (‘different’) had established itself by around 1700.
=> divert, divorce, verse, version, worth
dog: dog: [11] Dog is one of the celebrated mystery words of English etymology. It appears once in late Old English, in the Prudentius glosses, where it translates Latin canis, but its use does not seem to have proliferated until the 13th century, and it did not replace the native hound as the main word for the animal until the 16th century. It has no known relatives of equal antiquity in other European languages, although several borrowed it in the 16th and 17th centuries for particular sorts of ‘dog’: German dogge ‘large dog, such as a mastiff’, for instance, French dogue ‘mastiff’, and Swedish dogg ‘bulldog’.