In ancient times, a feared affliction, a cough that spread with grave conviction. Though once widespread, now much restrained, in the lungs, my presence is often contained. What am I, this disease of old, whose tales of struggle history's told?

I turn and turn, but never move. I can liberate or destroy. My nature is cyclical, but my impact, transformative. What am I?

I make rich men look more distinguished and educated, but I am not made of anything fancy, usually just glass and metal. You might see me in a famous novel being worn by Wilkins Micawber.

My name says I'm the seventh, But now I am the ninth; The sixth is not afraid of me - She is Jupiter's wife!

I start with a greeting, a simple hello. I end with a tale, legends stitched in a row. Tie them together, and you will see, Adventures that keep the past in memory.