Read it through once

PERDITA. I’ll not put The dibble in earth to set one slip of them; No more than, were I painted, I would wish This youth should say ’twere well, and only therefore Desire to breed by me. Here’s flowers for you: Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram, The marigold, that goes to bed with th’ sun And with him rises weeping. These are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age. You’re very welcome.