The Gamble of Gamboling

The English language fascinates me, with its amalgam of derivations from other languages. And of course its own Anglo-Saxon and Germanic roots. A case in point occurred to me as I sat on my screened back porch, sipping my coffee and enjoying the early morning breezes and birds.


Before long four rabbits emerged from various points in the shrubbery, onto the back patio and the surrounding lawn. Two large ones, two smaller, younger ones. One adult paid no heed to me when I said “hello”, so I presumed he/she is the one who comes to the backdoor every morning. The others bolted a few yards away, paused and, in my silence, returned to their business of eating, washing faces, and looking for something special to eat, such as the scattered sunflower seeds I put out for the birds.


Soon they totally settled in. One stretched out on the patio -- from the literature I know that when rabbits seem to ignore their surroundings, to lie in silence, it’s a sign they feel safe. As well they might, in this fenced dog-free, herbicide-free lawn. And the rabbit community went on its own way. The little rabbits tried to share space with the big ones, but if one got too close, the big one would charge at it. The little one would stand a few paces away, all would be forgiven, and peace would return to rabbitland.


Later the two large ones began chasing each other around the yard, jumping and charging. I’m sure it could be explained scientifically as territorial challenges or courtship acts, but to me it seemed nothing more than a form of tag. Pure play. The ancient word “gamboling” came to mind, and in fact that’s the only situation in which I’ve ever used the word. “Rabbits gamboling on the lawn.”


But in light of the many dangers rabbits face, another word came to mind. “Gamble.” Because when the rabbits relax in the open, they are letting their guard down. They are gambling with their lives, offering a perfect opportunity for a hawk or cat to sneak up.


So it seems that gamboling is a form of gambling. The words even sound alike, so I presumed they are variations of the same word. But when I turned to my trusty unabridged New Oxford American Dictionary (Second Edition), I learned I was wrong.


The ancient word “gamboling” (since the 16th Century) literally means “run or jump about playfully.” Like the rabbits were doing. A word that comes from the obsolete French word via Italian, “gambade,” meaning “trip up.”


“Gamble” is newer (18th Century) and means “to take risky action in the hope of a desired result.” So the connection still seems to work. But it turns out that “gamble” comes from the obsolete word, “gamel,” which meant “to play games.” Or the Old English word via German, “gamen,” meaning “to amuse oneself.”


That’s English for you. Two words that sound similar, and sometimes seem interchangable, sometimes both applicable to the same situation. Yet they have totally different roots. Of course whether the roots matter is another issue, for another time.