Um...pretty sure they’re not talking about planting potatoes, LOL!
QUEEN. What will your duties be?
SERVANT. The service of your idle days.
I will keep fresh the grassy path where you walk in the morning,
where your feet will be greeted with praise at every step by
the flowers eager for death.
I will swing you in a swing among the branches of the
saptaparna, where the early evening moon will struggle
to kiss your skirt through the leaves.
I will replenish with scented oil the lamp that burns by your
bedside, and decorate your footstool with sandal and saffron
paste in wondrous designs.
QUEEN. What will you have for your reward?
SERVANT. To be allowed to hold your little fists like tender
lotus-buds and slip flower chains over your wrists; to tinge
the soles of your feet with the red juice of ashoka
petals and kiss away the speck of dust that may chance to
linger there.
QUEEN. Your prayers are granted, my servant, you will be the
gardener of my flower garden.
(I, however, DO have a special ‘Cabana Boy Fund’ saved for when I’m a Little Old Lady.) ;)