1969 — He had to capture some character and get out of that rest room before his ague got so bad that the sergeant had to carry him to and from the booth every day. — John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces. Page 200
June 27.—The ague again so violent that I lay a-bed all day, and neither ate nor drank. I was ready to perish for thirst; but so weak, I had not strength to stand up, or to get myself any water to drink.
Both these things filled my head with new imaginations, and gave me the vapours again to the highest degree, so that I shook with cold like one in an ague; and I went home again, filled with the belief that some man or men had been on shore there; or, in short, that the island was inhabited, and I might be surprised before I was aware; and what course to take for my security I knew not.