We now first find the letter d in the middle of words
like wrecchedness and wickedness. What used to be inlihton
(inluxerunt) is now lightned, with a strange n.
Hâs (raucus) becomes haast; hence the Scotch substantive
hoast. We of the South have put an r into the
old adjective, and call it hoarse.
Olera herbarum (Vol. I. page 111) is translated wortes of grenes; hence our name for certain vegetables.
Hors (equi) is corrupted into horses, as in Layamon's poem. In Vol. I. 245, we find þai þat horses stegh up. This word has had a fate exactly the reverse of hâs (raucus), for we too often call equus ‘a hoss.’
We find some new substantives, such as understanding, foundling, yles (insulæ);[1] there is also hand-mayden. English delights in making two nouns into a new compound.[2] Molestus is translated by a new word, hackande (Vol. I. page 105); hence perhaps our ‘hacking cough.’
We see an effort made after a new idiom in Vol. I. page 265. ‘Non erat qui sepeliret’ is there translated was it nane þat walde biri. But this it could never drive out the old there.
In Vol. I. page 61, ‘exaruit velut testa’ is translated
