This maiden took sick and she went to her bed.
(N.B.--Pinter sticks to 'virging'.)
Whereupon friends and relations and guests left the house in a body (a
strange but perhaps a wise proceeding, after all--maybe they smelt a
rat) and left her to recover alone, which she did promptly. And then:
Shirt, breeches, and waistcoat this maiding put on,
And a-hunting she went with her dog and her gun;
She hunted all round where this farmier did dwell,
Because in her own heart she love-ed him well.
The cat's out of the bag now: