[Exit weeping, followed by Bianca and others.]

Bap. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;

For such an injury would vex

Much more a shrew of [thy] impatient humour.

[Enter Biondello.]

30

Bion. Master, master! [news, old news,] and such [news]

as you never heard of!

Bap. Is it new and old too? how may that be?

Bion. Why, is it not news, to [hear] of Petruchio's coming?