ballade of the women of Paris

Though women skill in speech unfold
’Neath Tuscan or Venetian sky,
Yea, even when they’re waxen old
On confidential errands fly;
Let Roman dames or Lombards try,
Or Genoese, support to draw,
Bring Piedmontese, Savoyards nigh,
There’s none to match a Paris jaw!

The Naples dames, like doctors, hold
Discourses, and are never shy;
The Germans cackle, we are told,
The Prussian women shrilly cry;
But search all Greece or Hungary,
Or Gypsies of no land or law,
Castile, or Spain, and squeeze them dry,
There’s none to match a Paris jaw!

All tongues of Swiss or Breton mould
Or from Toulouse or Gascony,
Two wives of Petit-Pont would scold
Them dumb, and all Lorraine defy
With England, Calais hold thereby,
(Behold this list of names with awe!)
Valenciennes too and Picardy,
There’s none to match a Paris jaw!

Prince, Paris ladies claim the high
Reward of speech without a flaw;
Italian lips in vain may vie
There’s none to match a Paris jaw

François Villon