This was Hippisley, a comedian with a natural humour which was wont to set an audience in a roar.
Lavinia blushed with pleasure and cast a grateful look at Spiller, whose hints had proved so valuable.
"Was I not right, Spiller ?" went on Gay.

"You've read my opera, what there is of it that's finished.

Won't Polly Peachum fit her like a glove ?" "Aye, if she can sing as prettily as she acted to-night," said Spiller, with a quizzical glance at the girl.
"Sing?
My lad, she has the voice of a nightingale.

Pepusch agrees with me.

I'll swear there's no singing woman outside the King's Theatre--or inside, for the matter of that--who can hold a candle by the side of her.