nauseate

[…] this room, where misfortune seems to ooze, where speculation lurks in corners, and of which Madame Vauquer inhales the warm, fetid air without being nauseated.

[…] I have not treated you as a Wise man would have done in silence, but it is time to put an end to this tittle tattle which has nauseated you for three days together.

As one of Woodward’s Patients, sick and sore,

I puke, I nauseate,—yet he thrusts in more;

[…] he made a Sign to me, that the Salt was not good to eat, and putting a little into his own Mouth, he seem’d to nauseate it, and would spit and sputter at it, washing his Mouth with fresh Water after it […]

Old Age, with silent pace, comes creeping on,

Nauseates the Praise, which in her Youth she won,

And hates the Muse by which she was undone.