The terrible ague

Well it took until February, but I've been felled by the Martian death plague that's been sweeping the land. I haven't been sick in ages and I forgot how rotten this feels. The physical part's bad enough, but this thing has sucked out of me every positive thought in head. All is woe.

But now will canker-sorrow devour my bud

And chase the native beauty from his cheek

And he will look as hole as a ghost,

As dim and meagre as an ague's fit.

Act 3, Scene 4

The Life and Death of King John, William Shakespeare

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