Therewith the moone's exaltation,* *rising / *In meane* Libra, gan alway ascend, *in the middle of* / As we were ent'ring at a thorpe's* end. *village's / For which our Host, as he was wont to gie,* *govern / As in this case, our jolly company, / Said in this wise; 'Lordings every one, / Now lacketh us no more tales than one.
-Geoffrey Chaucer
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