Antony & Cleopatra (shakespeare)

A: The present pleasure,
By revolution low'ring, does become
The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone;
The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on.
I must from this enchanting queen break off:
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch. Ho now, Enobarbus!

E: What's your pleasure, sir?