英语词源字典 - 在线词源网站

ague [ague 词源字典]: ague: [14] In its origins, ague is the same word as acute. It comes from the Latin phrase febris acuta ‘sharp fever’ (which found its way into Middle English as fever agu). In the Middle Ages the Latin adjective acuta came to be used on its own as a noun meaning ‘fever’; this became aguē in medieval French, from which it was borrowed into English. From the end of the 14th century ague was used for ‘malaria’ (the word malaria itself did not enter the language until the mid 18th century).
=> acute[ague etymology, ague origin, 英语词源]
ammonite: ammonite: [18] Like ammonia, the ammonite gets its name from a supposed connection with Amon, or Amen, the Egyptian god of life and reproduction. In art he is represented as having ram’s horns, and the resemblance of ammonites to such horns led to their being named in the Middle Ages cornu Ammōnis ‘horn of Amon’. In the 18th century the modern Latin term ammonītēs (anglicized as ammonite) was coined for them. Earlier, ammonites had been called snake stones in English, a term which survived dialectally well into the 19th century.
antelope: antelope: [15] Antelope comes from medieval Greek antholops. In the Middle Ages it was applied to an outlandish but figmentary beast, in the words of the Oxford English Dictionary, ‘haunting the banks of the Euphrates, very savage, hard to catch, having long saw-like horns with which they cut in pieces and broke all “engines” and even cut down trees’. The term was subsequently used for a heraldic animal, but it was not until the early 17th century that it was applied, by the naturalist Edward Topsell, to the swift-running deerlike animal for which it is now used.
antimony: antimony: [15] Antimony, from medieval Latin antimōnium, was used by alchemists of the Middle Ages for ‘stibnite’, the mineral from which antimony is obtained, and for ‘stibium’, or ‘black antimony’, a heated and powdered version of the mineral used for eye make-up. The element antimony itself was first described in the late 18th century, when it was called regulus of antimony; the British chemist Humphry Davy appears to have been the first to apply the simple term antimony to it, in 1812.

The ultimate origins of the word antimony are obscure, but attempts have been made to link it with Latin stibium (source of Somebody, the chemical symbol for antimony). It has been speculated that Latin antimōnium may have been a modification of Arabic ithmid, which was perhaps borrowed from Greek stimmi or stíbi (source of Latin stibium).

This in turn has been conjecturally traced back to an Egyptian word stm, which was used for a sort of powder applied to the eyelids as make-up.
arras: arras: [15] An arras is a tapestry hanging, immortalized by Shakespeare in Hamlet when he conceals Polonius behind one, there to be killed by Hamlet. The word comes from the Anglo-Norman phrase draps d’arras, literally ‘cloth of Arras’: Arras is a city in the Pas-de- Calais, northern France, famous in the Middle Ages as a centre for the manufacture of woollens and tapestry.
asbestos: asbestos: [14] Originally, the word we now know as asbestos was applied in the Middle Ages to a mythical stone which, once set alight, could never be put out; it came from the Greek compound ásbestos, literally ‘inextinguishable’, which was formed from the prefix a- ‘not’ and sbestós, a derivative of the verb sbennúnai ‘extinguish’. However, by the time it first came into English, its form was not quite what it is today.

To begin with, it was the Greek accusative form, ásbeston, that was borrowed, and in its passage from Latin through Old French it developed several variants, including asbeston and albeston, most of which turned up in English. Then, in the early 17th century, the word was reborrowed from the original Greek source, ásbestos, and applied to a noncombustible silicate mineral.
assassin: assassin: [17] Etymologically, an assassin is an ‘eater or smoker of hashish’, the drug cannabis. In the Middle Ages, in the area of the Middle East and modern Iran, there was a sect of fanatical Ismaili Muslims, founded in the late 11th century by Hassan ibn Sabbah. Its members killed the sect’s opponents under the influence of cannabis. Hence the hashshāshīn (plural of hashshāsh, Arabic for ‘hashish-eater’) came to have a reputation as murderers. In English the Arabic plural form was perceived as singular. The word has retained its connotation of one who kills for political or religious rather than personal motives.
=> hashish
atom: atom: [16] Etymologically, atom means ‘not cut, indivisible’. Greek átomos ‘that which cannot be divided up any further’ was formed from the negative prefix a- ‘not’ and the base *tom- ‘cut’ (source also of English anatomy and tome), and was applied in the Middle Ages not just to the smallest imaginable particle of matter, but also to the smallest imaginable division of time; an hour contained 22,560 atoms.

Its use by classical writers on physics and philosophy, such as Democritus and Epicurus, was sustained by medieval philosophers, and the word was ready and waiting for 19th-century chemists when they came to describe and name the smallest unit of an element, composed of a nucleus surrounded by electrons.
=> anatomy, tome
autumn: autumn: [14] English acquired autumn from Latin autumnus, partly via Old French autompne. Where Latin got the word from is a mystery; it may have been a borrowing from Etruscan, a long-extinct pre-Roman language of the Italian peninsula. In Old English, the term for ‘autumn’ was harvest, and this remained in common use throughout the Middle Ages; it was not until the 16th century that autumn really began to replace it (at the same time as harvest began to be applied more commonly to the gathering of crops). Fall, now the main US term for ‘autumn’, is 16th-century too.
awe: awe: [13] Old English had the word ege, meaning ‘awe’, but modern English awe is a Scandinavian borrowing; the related Old Norse agi steadily infiltrated the language from the northeast southwards during the Middle Ages. Agi came, like ege, from a hypothetical Germanic form *agon, which in turn goes back to an Indo-European base *agh- (whence also Greek ákhos ‘pain’). The guttural g sound of the 13th-century English word (technically a voiced velar spirant) was changed to w during the Middle English period. This was a general change, but it is not always reflected in spelling – as in owe and ought, for instance, which were originally the same word.
begin: begin: [OE] Begin comes from a prehistoric West Germanic compound verb *biginnan, which also produced German and Dutch beginnen; the origin of the second element, *ginnan, is not known for certain. The form gin was common in the Middle Ages and up until about 1600; this was a shortening, perhaps not so much of begin as of the now obsolete ongin ‘begin’, which was far more widespread than begin in Old English.
berry: berry: [OE] Berry is a strictly Germanic word, not found in other branches of Indo-European (German has beere, Dutch bes, and Danish bær). Its earliest application seems to have been specifically to grapes; the only record of it in Old Saxon and Gothic is in the compound ‘wineberry’, and around 1000 Aelfric translated Deuteronomy 23:24 into Old English as ‘If you go into your friend’s vineyard, eat the berries’.

But by the Middle Ages the term had broadened out to encompass the sorts of fruit we would recognize today as berries. The word goes back ultimately to a prehistoric Germanic *basj-, which it has been speculated may be related to Old English basu ‘red’.
buckram: buckram: [14] Etymologically, buckram ‘stiffened cloth’ is cloth from Bokhara, a city in central Asia (now the Uzbek city of Bukhara), from where in the Middle Ages cloth was exported to Europe. And not just any cloth: originally buckram denoted a high-quality cotton or linen fabric, and it was only in the 15th century that the word came to be applied to a coarser textile. It came into English from Old French boquerant.
canter: canter: [18] Canter comes from phrases such as Canterbury trot, Canterbury pace, etc, which were terms applied to the pace at which medieval pilgrims rode on their way by horse to the shrine of Thomas à Beckett at Canterbury in Kent (earliest references to it are from the 17th century, much later than the time of Chaucer’s pilgrims in the Middle Ages). The abbreviated from canter appeared in the 18th century, initially as a verb, and Samuel Johnson in his Dictionary 1755 defined Canterbury gallop as ‘the hand gallop of an ambling horse, commonly called a canter’.
cattle: cattle: [13] Ultimately, cattle is the same word as chattel [13], and when it first entered English it had the same meaning, ‘property’. From earliest times, however, it was applied specifically to livestock thought of as property. In the Middle Ages it was a wide-ranging term in animal husbandry, being used for horses, sheep, pigs, and even poultry and bees, as well as cows, and such usages survived dialectally until comparatively recently, but from the mid 16th century onwards there is increasing evidence of the word’s being restricted solely to cows.

Its ultimate source is medieval Latin capitāle ‘property’, which came to English via Old French chatel as chattel and via Anglo-Norman catel as cattle. Capitāle itself goes back to classical Latin capitālis (from caput ‘head’), from which English gets capital.
=> capital, chattel
charm: charm: [13] Although now largely weakened to mere ‘attractiveness’, the origins of charm are in magic spells and incantations. It comes via Old French charme from Latin carmen ‘song’, which was also used for the chanting or reciting of verses with supposedly magic powers. Thus in the Middle Ages, charms were synonymous with enchantment – either spoken or, in more concrete form, carried as talismans. The latter have degenerated in modern times to small trinkets worn on bracelets, an application first recorded in the mid 19th century.
concern: concern: [15] In earliest use, English concern meant ‘distinguish, discern’. This was a reflection of its ultimate source, Latin cernere ‘sift, separate’. In combination with the prefix com- ‘together’ it produced concernere, which in classical times meant specifically ‘mix together preparatory to sifting’. Later, however, the prefix seems to have taken on a more intensive role, with concernere reverting to the same range of senses as cernere.

By the Middle Ages these not only included ‘discern, perceive’ and ‘decide’ (whence English certain, from the past participle of cernere), but had widened considerably to ‘relate to’ – a meaning which emerged in English concern in the 16th century. Connotations of distress or worry began to develop in the late 17th century.
=> certain, discern
cousin: cousin: [13] The word cousin is etymologically related to sister. It comes via Old French cosin from Latin consobrīnus, which meant literally ‘child of one’s mother’s sister’ – that is, ‘cousin on one’s mother’s side’ (consobrīnus was a compound noun formed from the prefix com- ‘together’ and sobrīnus ‘maternal cousin’, a derivative of soror ‘sister’ and relative of English sister).

By the time it entered English, it had already broadened out in meaning to cover paternal as well as maternal cousins, and indeed in the Middle Ages it was applied more generally still to any relative other than one’s parents or brother and sister (probably through association with Latin consanguineus ‘blood relative’).
=> sister
currant: currant: [14] Etymologically, currants are grapes from ‘Corinth’. In the Middle Ages Corinth, in Greece, exported small dried grapes of particularly high quality, which became known in Old French as raisins de Corinthe ‘grapes of Corinth’. This phrase passed via Anglo-Norman raisins de corauntz into Middle English as raisins of coraunce. By the 16th century, coraunce had come to be regarded as a plural form, and a new singular was coined from it – at first coren, and then in the 17th century currant.

In the late 16th century, too, the name was transferred to fruit such as the blackcurrant and redcurrant, under the mistaken impression that the ‘dried-grape’ currant was made from them.
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
demerit: demerit: [14] A demerit may be virtually the opposite of a merit, but the word was not formed, as might be supposed, by adding the prefix de-, denoting oppositeness or reversal, to merit. Its distant ancestor was Latin demeritum, from the verb demereri ‘deserve’, where the de- prefix meant not ‘opposite of’ but ‘completely’ (as it does too in, for example, denude and despoil).

Add this de- to mereri ‘deserve’ and you get ‘deserve thoroughly’. However, at some point in the Middle Ages the prefix began to be reinterpreted as ‘opposite’, and medieval Latin demeritum came to mean ‘fault’ – the sense that reached English via French démérite.
district: district: [17] District started life as the past participle of the verb which gave English distrain [13] and strain. It came via French district from medieval Latin districtus; this meant literally ‘seized, compelled’, and hence was used as a noun in the sense ‘seizure of offenders’, and hence ‘exercise of justice’, and finally ‘area in which justice is so exercised (in the feudal system)’.

This was the word’s meaning when it was first borrowed into English, and it was not really until the early 18th century that its much more general modern application developed. Districtus was the past participle of Latin distringere, a compound verb formed from the prefix dis- ‘apart’ and stringere ‘pull tight’ (source of English strain, strict, stringent, stress, etc).

In classical times it meant ‘draw apart, detain, hinder’, but by the Middle Ages this had moved on to ‘seize, compel’, which were the main senses in which it entered English as distrain (via Old French destreindre). Latin districtus was also the source of a Vulgar Latin noun *districtia ‘narrowness’, which passed via Old French destresse into English as distress [13].
=> distrain, distress, strain, stress, strict, stringent
divine: divine: [14] Like deity, divine comes ultimately from Indo-European *deiwos, an ancestor whose godly connotations seem to have developed from earlier associations with ‘sky’ and ‘day’, and which probably originally meant ‘shining’. Its Latin descendants included deus ‘god’ (source of English deity) and the adjective dīvus ‘godlike’ (the noun use of its feminine form, dīva, for ‘goddess’ entered English via Italian as diva ‘prima donna’ [19]).

From dīvus was derived the further adjective dīvīnus, which became Old French devin and eventually English divine. Dīvīnus was used as a noun meaning, in classical times, ‘soothsayer’ (whence, via the Latin derivative dīvīnāre, the English verb divine) and in the Middle Ages ‘theologian’ (whence the nominal use of English divine in the same sense).
=> deity
embrocation: embrocation: [15] The semantic notion underlying embrocation is of ‘wetness’, for it comes ultimately from the Greek word for ‘rain’, brokhé. This was the basis of a verb embrékhein, used for ‘treat medically by the application of liquid’, from which in turn was derived the noun embrokhé ‘lotion’. Latin took this over and in the Middle Ages formed a verb from it, embrocāre ‘treat with healing liquid’, which was actually borrowed into English as embrocate: ‘In wounds of gun-shot … embrocate often’, John Woodall, Surgion’s Mate 1612.

This had died out by the mid 19th century, but its noun, embrocation (used in the concrete sense ‘lotion’ since the 17th century), survives.
farce: farce: [14] Farce originally meant ‘stuff’ (widening gastronomic knowledge in the late 20th century has made us more familiar with its French cousin farcir ‘stuff’, and the force- of forcemeat [17] is the same word). It came via Old French farsir from Latin farcīre ‘stuff’. The Latin verb was used in the Middle Ages for the notion of inserting additional passages into the text of the Mass, and hence to padding out any text. A particular application was the insertion of impromptu, usually comical interludes into religious plays, which had led by the 16th century to something approaching the modern meaning of farce.
=> forcemeat
flamingo: flamingo: [16] Flamingos get their name from their reddish-pink plumage, which earned them the epithet ‘fire-bird’. This was expressed in Provençal (the language of southern French coastal areas, where flamingos abound) as flamenc, a compound formed from flama ‘flame’ (a descendant of Latin flamma) and the Germanic suffix -ing ‘belonging to’. English acquired the word via Portuguese flamengo. (It has, incidentally, no etymological connection with flamenco ‘Spanish dance’ [19], which comes from the Spanish word for ‘Flemish’: the people of Flanders seem to have had a reputation in the Middle Ages for bright, flamboyant dress, and hence ‘Flemish’ in Spanish became synonymous with ‘gipsy-like’.)
=> flame
glamour: glamour: [18] Unlikely as it may seem, glamour is ultimately the same word as grammar. This seems to have been used in the Middle Ages for ‘learning’ in general, and hence, by superstitious association, for ‘magic’ (there is no actual record of this, but the related gramarye was employed in that sense). Scottish English had the form glamour for grammar (l is phonetically close to r, and the two are liable to change places), used for ‘enchantment’, or a ‘spell’, for whose introduction to general English Sir Walter Scott was largely responsible.

The literal sense ‘enchanted’ has now slipped into disuse, gradually replaced since the early 19th century by ‘delusive charm’, and latterly ‘fashionable attractiveness’.
=> grammar
gun: gun: [14] Gun probably comes, unlikely as it may seem, from the Scandinavian female forename Gunnhildr (originally a compound of gunnr ‘war’ and hildr ‘war’). It is by no means unusual for large fearsome weapons to be named after women (for reasons perhaps best left to psychologists): the huge German artillery weapon of World War I, Big Bertha, and the old British army musket, Brown Bess, are cases in point.

And it seems that in the Middle Ages Gunnhildr or Gunhild was applied to various large rock-hurling seige weapons, such as the ballista, and later to cannon. The earliest recorded sense of gun (on this theory representing Gunne, a pet form of Gunhild) is ‘cannon’, but it was applied to hand-held firearms as they developed in the 15th century.
hermetic: hermetic: [17] Hermetic means literally ‘of Hermes’. Not Hermes the messenger of the Greek gods, though, but an Egyptian priest of the time of Moses, who in the Middle Ages was regarded as identical with the versatile Hermes in his capacity of patron of science and invention, and who was thus named Hermes Trismegistus ‘Hermes the thrice greatest’. This shadowy figure was the supposed author of various works on alchemy and magic, and so the term hermetic came to be roughly synonymous with alchemical.

One of the inventions credited to Hermes Trismegistus was a magic seal to make containers airtight, and by the 1660s we find hermetic being used for ‘airtight’.
hour: hour: [13] Greek hórā (a distant relative of English year) was originally a rather vague term, denoting ‘period of time, season’. In due course it came to be applied more specifically to ‘one twelfth of a day (from sunrise to sunset)’, but as this varied in length according to the time of the year, hórā was still far from being a precise unit of time. Not until the Middle Ages (when hórā had passed via Latin hora and Old French hore into English as hour) did the term become fixed to a period of sixty minutes. (The same sort of vague relationship between ‘time’ in general or ‘period of time’ and ‘fixed period’ is shown in Swedish timme, which is related to English time but means ‘hour’; in German stunde, which originally meant ‘period of time’, but now means ‘hour’; and indeed in English tide, which in Old English times meant ‘hour’ but now, insofar as it survives as a temporal term, denotes ‘season’ – as in Whitsuntide.) English horoscope [16] comes ultimately from Greek hōroskópos, a compound which meant literally ‘observer of time’ – that is, of the ‘time of birth’.
=> horoscope, year
important: important: [16] Important and import (the opposite of export) come from the same source – Latin importāre, a compound verb formed from the prefix in- and portāre ‘carry’ (as in English portable). Its original literal sense (as represented in the English verb import [16]) was ‘bring in’, but in the Middle Ages this developed metaphorically to ‘imply, mean’ (which is what French importer and Italian importare signify), and its present participle importāns gave English important.
=> import, port, portable
limbo: limbo: English has two distinct and probably unrelated words limbo. By far the older is the theological limbo [14], referring originally to that condition in which the souls of the dead exist that are neither in heaven nor in hell. It comes from Latin limbus ‘border, edge’, which in the Middle Ages was used to refer to a region on the borders of, but not actually inside, hell.

It very often turned up in the ablative case, in the phrase in limbo, which is how English adopted it. The other limbo [20], denoting a West Indian dance that involves passing underneath a progressively lowered bar, probably comes from limber ‘flexible, supple’ [16], which in turn might be from limb or possibly from limber ‘detachable forward part of a gun-carriage’ [15] (although spellings of that with a b do not occur before the 17th century).

No one knows where that limber came from, although it might ultimately be Celtic. Alternatively, if the bar is viewed as a sort of boundary that the dancer must cross, the terpsichorean limbo could be related to the theological limbo.
marigold: marigold: [14] The Old English term for this yellow-to-orange-flowered plant was golde, which was presumably derived from gold, in allusion to the colour. In the Middle Ages the name Mary (no doubt a reference to the Virgin Mary) was added to it. Another English word based ultimately on Mary is marionette [17], which was borrowed from a French word derived from the diminutive form Marion.
marzipan: marzipan: [19] The word marzipan has long puzzled etymologists. An elaborate theory was formulated in the early 20th century that traced it back to Arabic mawthabān ‘king who sits still’. That was applied by the Saracens to a medieval Venetian coin with a figure of the seated Christ on it. A series of fairly implausible semantic changes led from ‘coin’ via ‘box’ to ‘confectionery’, while the form of the word supposedly evolved in Italian to marzapane.

This turns out to be completely wide of the mark (not surprisingly), but the truth seems scarcely less remarkable. In Burma (now Myanmar) there is a port called Martaban, which was renowned in the Middle Ages for the jars of preserves and fruits exported from there to Europe. The name of the place came to be associated with its products, and in Italian, as marzapane, it denoted a type of sweetmeat (-pane for -ban suggests that some people subconsciously connected the word with Italian pane ‘bread’). Marzapane and its relatives in other languages (such as early modern French marcepain) entered English in the 16th century, and from the confusion of forms the consensus spelling marchpane emerged.

This remained the standard English word for ‘marzipan’ until the 19th century, when marzipan was borrowed from German; this was an alteration of Italian marzapane, based on the misconception that it came from Latin marci pānis ‘Mark’s bread’.
maudlin: maudlin: [16] Maudlin represents a gradual erosion of the pronunciation of Magdalen (exhibited also in the case of the Oxford and Cambridge colleges that have taken that name). The word originated as the name given to a woman called Mary who came from Magdala on the Sea of Galilee, and who according to the Bible was present at Christ’s crucifixion and was the first to meet him after he had risen from the dead. In the Middle Ages she was generally represented in paintings as crying, and so maudlin came to be used for ‘oversentimental’.
medium: medium: [16] Latin medius meant ‘middle’ (it came from an Indo-European source that also produced English mid and middle). Its neuter form, used as a noun, has given English medium, but it has made several other contributions to the language, including mean ‘average’, medial [16], median [16], mediate [16] (and its derivatives immediate [16] – etymologically ‘acting directly, without any mediation’ – and intermediate [17]), medieval [19] (literally ‘of the Middle Ages’), mediocre, meridian, mitten, and moiety.

Its Italian descendant is mezzo ‘half’, which has given English intermezzo [19], mezzanine [18], mezzosoprano [18], and mezzotint [18].
=> immediate, intermezzo, mean, median, mediate, middle, mitten
minister: minister: [13] Etymologically, a minister is a person of ‘lower’ status, a ‘servant’. The word goes back via Old French ministre to Latin minister ‘servant, attendant’, which was derived from minus ‘less’. It retained this meaning when it arrived in English, and indeed it still survives in the verb minister. But already by the Middle Ages a specialized application to a ‘church functionary’ had developed, and in the 16th century this hardened into the present-day ‘clergyman’.

The political sense of the word developed in the 17th century, from the notion of a ‘servant’ of the crown. Derivatives from other languages to have established themselves in English include métier [18], which came via French from Vulgar Latin *misterium, an alteration of Latin ministerium ‘service’ (source of English ministry [14]), and minstrel.

And etymologically, minister is the antonym of master, whose Latin ancestor was based on magis ‘more’.
=> métier, minstrel, minus
necromancy: necromancy: [13] Greek nekrós meant ‘corpse’ (it has given English necrophilia [19], necropolis ‘cemetery’ [19], and necrosis ‘death of tissue’ [17] as well as necromancy, and goes back to a base *nek- ‘kill’ which also produced Latin nex ‘killing’, source of English internecine and pernicious, and possibly Greek néktar, source of English nectar).

Addition of manteíā ‘divination’, a derivative of mántis ‘prophet, diviner’ (from which English gets the insectname mantis [17], an allusion to its raised front legs, which give it an appearance of praying), produced nekromanteíā ‘foretelling the future by talking to the dead’, which passed into late Latin as necromantīa. By the Middle Ages the application of the term had broadened out to ‘black magic’ in general, and this led to an association of the first element of the word with Latin niger ‘black’.

Hence when it first arrived in English it was in the form nigromancy, and the restoration of the original necro- did not happen until the 16th century.
=> internecine, mantis, pernicious
Norman: Norman: [13] Etymologically, the Normans were and are ‘men of the north’, a reference to the Scandinavians who settled in northern France in the 9th century and whose possession of the region, under their leader Rollo, was officially recognized by the French king in 911. The word originated in Old Norse northmathr, literally ‘northman’. In Old French that became normant or normand. That had a brief currency in English in the Middle Ages, but it was its plural form normans, shorn of its -s, that provided the standard modern English term.
pie: pie: [14] The characteristic feature of pies in the Middle Ages was that their filling consisted of a heterogeneous mixture of ingredients (as opposed to pasties, which had just one main ingredient). This has led etymologists to suggest that pies were named after magpies (or pies, as they were originally called), from a supposed resemblance between the miscellaneous contents of pies and the assortment of objects collected by thieving magpies.

Although pie has now been superseded by magpie as the bird-name, it survives in pied [14] (etymologically ‘coloured black and white like a magpie’) and piebald [16] (etymologically ‘streaked with black and white’).
=> magpie, pied, piebald
ration: ration: [18] Ration, like reason, comes from Latin ratiō, a derivative of the verb rērī ‘think, calculate’. This meant, among other things, ‘calculation, computation’, in which sense it has yielded English ratio [17]. In the Middle Ages it was used for an ‘amount of provisions calculated for a soldier’, and that meaning has channelled via Spanish ración and French ration into English as ration.

The ‘thinking’ sense of ratiō has reached English as reason, but its derivative rational [14] is less heavily disguised. Other English descendants of Latin rērī include rate and ratify [14], and the -red of hundred comes from a prehistoric Germanic *rath ‘number’, which came ultimately from Latin ratiō.
=> hundred, rate, ratio, reason
rosary: rosary: [14] Rosary comes from Latin rosārium ‘rose garden’, a derivative of rosa ‘rose’. It was a common conceit in the Middle Ages to name collections of verse or similar short pieces after bunches of flowers (anthology comes from the Greek word for ‘flower’, and a similar inspiration underlies florilegium, while a 13thcentury volume of the collected works of the Persian poet Sa’di was called the Rose garden).

That was the background against which a collection of Roman Catholic prayers, consisting of Aves, Paternosters, and Glorias, came to be known as a rosary. A string of beads of varying sizes came to be used for counting off how far one has got in saying these prayers (English bead itself comes from a word meaning ‘prayer’), and this too was termed rosary.
=> rose
rune: rune: [17] Old English had a word rūn, which appears originally to have denoted ‘mystery’, and hence ‘carved or written character with mysterious or magical properties’. This had died out by the end of the Middle Ages, but its Old Norse relative *rún lived on to become modern Swedish runa and Danish rune, and when antiquarian interest in the ancient runic writing system developed in Britain in the 16th century, they were borrowed into English as rune.
stationer: stationer: [15] In medieval Latin a statiōnārius was originally a ‘trader who kept a permanent stall’ (as opposed to an itinerant seller). The word was derived from Latin statiō ‘standing, keeping still’ (source of English station), which in the post-classical meaning evolved in meaning to ‘shop’. Such permanent shops were comparatively rare in the Middle Ages.

Of those that did exist, the commonest were bookshops, licensed by the universities, and so when English adopted the Latin term, it was used in the sense ‘bookseller’. It has since come down in the world somewhat to ‘seller of paper, pens, etc’ (a sense first recorded in the mid 17th century), but the earlier application is preserved in the name of the Stationers’ Company, a London livery company to which booksellers and publishers belong.

The derivative stationery dates from the 18th century.
=> station
tawdry: tawdry: [17] Anna, Anglo-Saxon king of East Anglia, had a daughter called Etheldrida, who became queen of Northumbria (she died in 679). She had an inordinate fondness in her youth for fine lace neckerchiefs, and when she was later afflicted by a fatal tumour of the neck, she regarded it as divine retribution for her former extravagance. After her death she was canonized and made patron saint of Ely.

In the Middle Ages fairs were held in her memory, known as ‘St Audrey’s fairs’ (Audry is a conflated version of Etheldrida), at which lace neckties were sold. These were termed Seynt Audries lace, a name eventually eroded to tawdrie lace. They were often made from cheap gaudy material, and so by the end of the 17th century tawdry was being used generally for ‘cheap and gaudy’.
ultramarine: ultramarine: [16] Ultramarine originally denoted a blue pigment made from the stone lapis lazuli. This was imported in the Middle Ages from Asia by sea, and so it was termed in medieval Latin ultrāmarīnus, literally ‘beyond the seas’. This was a compound adjective formed from the prefix ultrā- ‘beyond’ and marīnus ‘of the sea’ (source of English marine).
=> marine, mere, mermaid
utensil: utensil: [14] Latin ūtēnsilis meant ‘usable, useful’. It was derived from the verb ūtī ‘use’ (source also of English use, utility, utilize, etc). In the Middle Ages it was adapted into a noun, ūtēnsilia, meaning ‘things for use, implements’. This passed into English via Old French utensile as utensil, still a collective noun, but by the 15th century it was being used for an individual ‘implement’.
=> use
wizard: wizard: [15] A wizard is etymologically a ‘wise’ man – indeed originally the word was used for ‘philosopher’ or ‘sage’, without any suggestion of magical practices. It was derived from wise. The distinction between philosophy and magic was sufficiently blurred in the Middle Ages for the sense ‘magician’ to emerge in the 16th century, and that is the one which has prevailed.
=> wise
admiral (n.): c. 1200, "Saracen commander or chieftain," from Old French amirail (12c.) "Saracen military commander; any military commander," ultimately from medieval Arabic amir "military commander," probably via Medieval Latin use of the word for "Muslim military leader." Meaning "highest-ranking naval officer" in English is from early 15c. The extension of the word's meaning from "commander on land" to "commander at sea" likely began in 12c. Sicily with Medieval Latin amiratus and then spread to the continent, but the word also continued to mean "Muslim military commander" in Europe in the Middle Ages.

The intrusive -d- probably is from influence of Latin ad-mirabilis (see admire). Italian form almiraglio, Spanish almirante are from confusion with Arabic words in al-. As a type of butterfly, from 1720, possibly a corruption of admirable.
alchemy (n.): mid-14c., from Old French alchimie (14c.), alquemie (13c.), from Medieval Latin alkimia, from Arabic al-kimiya, from Greek khemeioa (found c.300 C.E. in a decree of Diocletian against "the old writings of the Egyptians"), all meaning "alchemy." Perhaps from an old name for Egypt (Khemia, literally "land of black earth," found in Plutarch), or from Greek khymatos "that which is poured out," from khein "to pour," related to khymos "juice, sap" [Klein, citing W. Muss-Arnolt, calls this folk etymology]. The word seems to have elements of both origins.
Mahn ... concludes, after an elaborate investigation, that Gr. khymeia was probably the original, being first applied to pharmaceutical chemistry, which was chiefly concerned with juices or infusions of plants; that the pursuits of the Alexandrian alchemists were a subsequent development of chemical study, and that the notoriety of these may have caused the name of the art to be popularly associated with the ancient name of Egypt. [OED]
The al- is the Arabic definite article, "the." The art and the name were adopted by the Arabs from Alexandrians and thence returned to Europe via Spain. Alchemy was the "chemistry" of the Middle Ages and early modern times; since c. 1600 the word has been applied distinctively to the pursuit of the transmutation of baser metals into gold, which, along with the search for the universal solvent and the panacea, were the chief occupations of early chemistry.