Words English took from Spanish and French
Grade 11 Reading Worksheet

Circle the best answer.
Venison (noun) the meat of a deer. Source: Anglo-French veneisun “meat of game,” from Latin venatio “the chase.” Kira reads a steward’s list from an old manor: “venison of the boar, baked in pastry.” Using the source meaning, how should that line be read?
- The steward calls the boar a kind of deer so that the dish will sound finer to the guests at the feast, a custom of the time.
- The steward means the chase itself, as in Latin venatio, so the line names a sport and not a dish at the feast, not the workers.
- The line is not a slip: the word still carried its source meaning, the meat of any game animal, and later narrowed to deer.
- The steward made a slip, since venison means the meat of a deer, and a boar is not a kind of deer, as any cook of the time would know.
Villain (noun) a wicked person. Source: Old French vilain “farm worker,” from Late Latin villanus, from villa “farm, estate.” Milo reads a line from a manor roll of the 1200s: “every villain owes the lord two days’ reaping.” What does villain mean there, and what has happened to the word since?
- A farm worker, and the word became an insult because lords grew afraid of the peasants’ growing numbers on the estates.
- A farm worker on the estate; the word has since turned from a class of workers into a charge of wickedness.
- A wicked man; the roll lists wrongdoers, the reaping is a punishment, and the word has meant the same thing ever since.
- A landowner, since Latin villa named a country house and the word first named the owner of one, not the workers.
Read this first
Entry
Curfew (noun) a rule that people stay indoors after a set hour. Source: Old French cuevre-fu “cover fire,” from covrir “to cover” + fu “fire.”
Tala reads two lines. A: “Long after the fire law was forgotten, the town went on ringing the curfew every night at nine.” B: “The council set a ten o’clock curfew for children under sixteen.” How did curfew move from its source meaning?
- In A it names a rule and in B a bell, so the word moved from a law to a signal and then to a time of night.
- In both lines it names a rule keeping people indoors, and the ringing in A is just a figure of speech for announcing that rule.
- In A it names the evening bell that told households to cover fires; in B a rule about hours; the name outlived its first job.
- In A it names the bell and in B a rule, because towns found rules easier to enforce than the old fire laws.
Entry
Cockroach (noun) a flat brown insect that lives in kitchens. Origin: Spanish cucaracha, a name for the insect. English speakers reshaped the borrowed word to look like the English words cock and roach; the insect has no link to cocks or to the roach, a freshwater fish.
A trivia card says: “The insect is named for a rooster, because it rises at dawn.” Zee checks the card against the entry. Which correction is best?
- The card is half right: cock came from reshaping, but roach describes how the insect looks, like the fish.
- The name began as the English words cock and roach, and the Spanish cucaracha was made to match them later.
- The name began as Spanish cucaracha; English speakers later reshaped it to look like cock and roach, so the rooster is only a look-alike.
- The card is right that a rooster is involved: speakers added cock to the Spanish name because the insect is active at dawn.
Entry
Crayfish (noun) a small freshwater animal like a lobster. Origin: Old French crevice “crayfish,” from a Frankish word for “crab.” Middle English crevis, still a dialect word for the animal. English speakers reshaped the ending to match the English word fish; the animal is not a fish.
Ren finds the spelling crevis in a medieval cookbook. What does the entry say this spelling shows?
- The same word as crayfish, spelled that way because medieval cooks shortened names that appeared often in recipes and market lists.
- A careless spelling of crayfish, made by a scribe who left out the fish ending by mistake.
- A different animal, since Old French crevice named a crab and not a freshwater animal like a lobster.
- An earlier form, from before English speakers reshaped the ending to match fish; the word had come from Old French.
Entry 1
Sovereign (noun) a ruler. Origin: Middle English sovereyn, from Old French soverain, from Latin super “above.” The g was added by spellers who linked the word to reign, from Old French regne. Entry 2: island (noun) land surrounded by water. Origin: Old English īegland, from īeg “island” + land. The s was added in the 1500s by spellers who linked the word to isle, from Old French isle; the two words are not related.
Pia compares the two entries. Which statement about the extra letters in sovereign and island do they support together?
- In each, the extra letter records a sound that English speakers once pronounced and later dropped from the word.
- In sovereign the g came from reign, but in island the s is part of the original Old English word.
- In each, the extra letter was already in the source word, and English spellers simply kept it from Old French and Old English.
- In each, a letter was added by spellers who linked the word to a French-derived word it is not related to: reign for the g, isle for the s.
Entry
Penthouse (noun) 1. (historical) a lean-to with a sloping roof built against a building. 2. an apartment on the top floor of a tall building. Origin: Anglo-French pentiz, from apendiz “something attached,” from Latin appendere “to hang on.” Sense 1 is recorded from the 1300s and sense 2 from the 1800s. English speakers reshaped the ending to look like house.
Luz reads the entry. Which statement about penthouse does it support?
- The house ending explains the apartment sense: speakers saw a house on top and the meaning followed the look.
- The word named an attached lean-to long before it named an apartment, and the house in the ending is a look-alike, not its source.
- The ending is a look-alike, as stated, but Anglo-French pentiz meant the top floor, which led to the apartment sense.
- The word began as a house on top of a building, and the lean-to sense came later as a smaller copy of it, built later against the wall.
Entry 1
House (noun) a building where people live. Source: Old English hūs. Entry 2: residence (noun) a building where someone lives. Source: Middle French, from Medieval Latin residentia, from Latin residere “to sit back, remain.”
Bo edits a birthday invitation: “Please come to our ____ on Saturday for cake and games.” Which word fits, and what in the sources helps explain why?
- house: it is an Old English word, and any Old English word is warmer than a word borrowed from Latin or French, whatever the topic.
- house: the plain Old English word for a home suits a warm invitation; residence, from a Latin word for staying put, sounds like paperwork.
- residence: it comes from a Latin word for welcome, so it sounds like an invitation to a party with games and cake for the children.
- residence: it names a building where someone lives, which is exactly what the invitation means by our home, said in a direct way.
Entry 1
Folk (noun) the people of a community; ordinary people. Source: Old English folc. Entry 2: people (noun) persons in general. Source: Old French pople, from Latin populus.
Ari edits a travel essay about a mountain village: “The village ____ gathered at dusk to sing the songs their grandparents had taught them.” Which word fits, and why?
- people: it names persons in general, so it covers the villagers without adding any extra shade of meaning to the sentence.
- people: it is the Old English word, so it carries the homespun feel that folk, from French, lacks in an essay like this one.
- folk: it is shorter than people, and travel writers prefer a shorter word to a longer one whenever they can.
- folk: the Old English word carries the feel of a close, ordinary community, which suits handed-down songs; people sounds like a head count.
Entry 1
Chief (noun) a leader; the head of a group. Source: Old French chef “head,” from Latin caput; recorded 1250–1300. Entry 2: chef (noun) a head cook. Source: French chef, short for chef de cuisine “head of the kitchen”; recorded 1835–45.
Esme tests this claim about two words: “Chief and chef are one French word that English borrowed twice, a few decades apart.” Which verdict is best?
- Partly supported: both come from French chef “head,” but the entries date the two borrowings about 550 years apart.
- Partly supported: they are one word, but the claim errs about meaning, since chief and chef name the same job in English.
- Partly supported: chief came from French, but chef came straight from Latin caput, so they are not really one word.
- Not supported: chief and chef differ in spelling and meaning, so they cannot be one word borrowed twice by English speakers.