Could the mayor of the small village of R. in Provence have imagined himself at the origin of disturbances to public order?
Having wanted Caesar,
dura lex, sed lex,
he would end Nero. What obscure political reason, what little mania for caste or zealous Puritan suddenly pushed him to make a decision which was admittedly silly, but which is not anecdote? Got up one morning, we do not know what footing, he went away decreeing that they would no longer dry their laundry at the windows, nor unless they were seen and known to all. That everyone, henceforth, would dry their laundry as a family, out of sight. These are not only sneers and mockery, then soon lazzis, but a real joke that the Mayor had just raised by this unspeakable mania. Because he would get stuck in his envy. Come on, Monsieur le Maire, you don't think about it, he was first told in council; hanging out the laundry on the windows and balconies is not just a tradition here, but an art of living. a
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