William Shakespeare on Illness

“What, is Brutus sick, And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, To dare the vile contagion of the night?”

“He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake; 'tis true, this god did shake: His coward lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre.”