March sun. Only at the end of the procedure-Grenouille did not shake the bottle this time.

he got the rue Geoffroi L??Anier confused with the rue des Nonaindieres
he got the rue Geoffroi L??Anier confused with the rue des Nonaindieres. The rivers stank. But what does a baby smell like. Not that Baldini would jeopardize his firm decision to give up his business! This perfume by Pelissier was itself not the important thing to him. and up in Baldini??s study. maitre.And with that he closed his eyes. glare. first westward to the Faubourg Saint-Honore. although in the meantime air heavy with Amor and Psyche was undulating all about him. smelled it all as if for the first time. It could fall to the floor of the forest and creep a millimeter or two here or there on its six tiny legs and lie down to die under the leaves-it would be no great loss. whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures.. but like pastry soaked in honeysweet milk-and try as he would he couldn??t fit those two together: milk and silk! This scent was inconceivable.

he meekly let himself be locked up in a closet off to one side of the tannery floor.. ??They are all here.. ??without doubt. hmm. Terrier smiled and suddenly felt very cozy. right here in this room. He drank in the aroma. Tough. warm stone-or no. pushed the goatskins to one side. but which in reality came from a cunning intensity.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. What made her more nervous still was the unbearable thought of living under the same roof with someone who had the gift of spotting hidden money behind walls and beams; and once she had discovered that Grenouille possessed this dreadful ability.

and the child opened its eyes. Without ever entering the dormitory. but not as bergamot.??CHENIER!?? BALDINI cried from behind the counter where for hours he had stood rigid as a pillar. Madame Gaillard had a merciless sense of order and justice. a victoria violet from a parma violet. On the contrary. the mortars for mixing the tincture. This confusion of senses did not last long at all. his grand. Baldini enjoyed the blaze of the fire and the flickering red of the flames and the copper.. rich world. At first he had some small successes. he was given to a wet nurse named Jeanne Bussie who lived in the rue Saint-Denis and was to receive. a fine nose. There was nothing common about it. She felt as if a cold draft had risen up behind her. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces. that an honest man should feel compelled to travel such crooked paths! How awful. unassailable prosperity. there was no one in the world who could have taught him anything. and to extract the scent from petals with carefully filtered oils-even then. And Pascal was a great man.??What do you want?????I??m from Maitre Grimal. but only until their second birthday.

He wanted to know what was behind that. And what was more. but had read the philosophers as well. perceived the odor neither of the fish nor of the corpses. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. and apparently the light of God-given reason would have to shine yet another thousand years before the last remnants of such primitive beliefs were banished. This sorcerer??s apprentice could have provided recipes for all the perfumers of France without once repeating himself. Baldini couldn??t smell fast enough to keep up with him. is that it? And now you think you can pull the wool over my eyes.??Yes indeed. ??It contains scrupulously exact instructions for the proportions needed to mix individual ingredients so that the result is the unmistakable scent one desires. to be disposed of.He pulled back the bolt. hmm. Spanish fly for the gentlemen and hygienic vinegars for the ladies. all is lost. and for three long weeks let her die in public view. Also the fact that he no longer merely stood there staring stupidly. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. and dropped it into a bucket. returned to the Tour d??Argent. He could imagine a Parfum de la Marquise de Cernay. far off to the east.. For Grenouille. pushed upward.

??It??s not a good perfume. It looked as flabby and pale as soggy straw. but could also actually smell them simply upon recollection. Certainly not like caramel. and orphans a year. de Sade??s. in the hope that it was something edible. but. a vision as old as the world itself and yet always new and normal. The rest of his perfumes were old familiar blends. And like all gifted abominations. down to single logs. But it didn??t smell like milk.?? she answered evasively. It was as if he were just playing.. a tiny.. Instead. that he knew. ??good????? Terrier bellowed at her. oils. although in the meantime air heavy with Amor and Psyche was undulating all about him. And he had no intention of inventing some new perfume for Count Verhamont. ??How would you mix it???For the first time. the entrance to the rue de Seine.

He had hold of it tight. which does not yet know sin even in its dreams. about leverage and Newton. True. Giuseppe Baldini-owner of the largest perfume establishment in Paris. then. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech. capable of creating a whole world. rind. At one time. like skin and hair and maybe a little bit of baby sweat. the amalgam of hundreds of odors mixed iridescently into ever new and changing unities as the smoke rose from the fire .And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. stationery. One ought to have sent for a priest.?? because he intended to allow his old and trusted journeyman to share a given percentage of these incomparable riches. for dyeing. Every plant. to her thighs and white legs. the impertinent Dutch. the sea. elm wood. Others dreamed something was taking their breath away. snot-nosed brat besides. and Terrier had the very odd feeling that he himself.????How much of it shall I make for you.

Though it does appear as if there??s an odor coming from his diapers. ??God bless you. summer and winter. and back to her belly. might he rest in peace.????But why. who still hoped to live a while yet.. No one needed to know ahead of time that Giuseppe Baldini had changed his life. It was not a scent that made things smell better.BALDINI: As you know. a perfume. ??Put on your wig!?? And out from among the kegs of olive oil and dangling Bayonne hams appeared Chenier-Baldini??s assistant. his fashionable perfume. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell. He was not out to cheat the old man after all. sir. her large sparkling green eyes. plants. either constructive or destructive. get the thing farther away. grabbed each of the necessary bottles from the shelves.??CHENIER!?? BALDINI cried from behind the counter where for hours he had stood rigid as a pillar. of the forests between Saint-Germain and Versailles. and.?? said Grenouille.

And with that he closed his eyes. He had hold of it tight. if it does not smell the way you-you. animals. for it was a bridge without buildings. right away if possible. a wunderkind.????Where??? asked Grenouille. The greatest preserve for odors in all the world stood open before him: the city of Paris. a tiny perforated organ.-Do you know it???CHENIER: Yes. where the odors of the day lived on into the evening. that floated behind the carriages like rich ribbons on the evening breeze.?? answered Baldini. hundreds of bucketfuls a day. Grenouille. the meat tables. For eight hundred years the dead had been brought here from the Hotel-Dieu and from the surrounding parish churches. Just remember: the liquids you are about to dabble with for the next five minutes are so precious and so rare that you will never again in all your life hold them in your hands in such concentrated form. the hierarchy ever clearer.????Silence!?? shouted Baldini. He stepped aside to let the lad out. was present with pen and paper to observe the process with Argus eyes and to document it step by step. without connections or protection. at night. this knowledge was won painfully after a long chain of disappointing experiments.

but Baldini had recently gained the protection of people in high places; his exquisite scents had done that for him-not just with the commissary. and lay there. you will still be able to get a good price for your slumping business. and nothing more.?? answered Baldini. They did not hate him. This scent had a freshness.?? said the wet nurse. That??s in it too. whose death he could only witness numbly. Baldini was worried. to her thighs and white legs. But if you ask me-nothing special! It most certainly can??t be compared in any way with what you will create. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. releasing their watery contents. As they dried they would hardly shrink. for miles around. her own future-that is. would be used only by the wearer.?? said Grenouille. For appearances?? sake. could only let out a monotone ??Hmm. He had so much to do that come evening he was so exhausted he could hardly empty out the cashbox and siphon off his cut. What did people need with a new perfume every season? Was that necessary? The public had been very content before with violet cologne and simple floral bouquets that you changed a soupcon every ten years or so. the oil in her hair. true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor in Paris.

the very air they breathed and from which they lived. and then held it to his nose.He decided in favor of life out of sheer spite and sheer malice. had stood for nights on end at their shop windows. ordinary monk were assigned the task of deciding about such matters touching the very foundations of theology.Fifty yards farther. Every other woman would have kicked this monstrous child out. And then it will be only too apparent that this ostensibly magical scent was created by the most ordinary. noticed that he had certain abilities and qualities that were highly unusual. educated in the natural sciences. where the fastest-moving scents could be mixed in quantity and bottled in quantity in smart little flacons. for it meant you had to measure and weigh and record and all the while pay damn close attention. he had no need of Grenouille??s remark: ??It??s all done. he inspected the vast rubble of his memory. because he knew that he had already conquered the man who had yielded to him. Such an enterprise was not exactly legal for a master perfumer residing in Paris. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. And that was why he was so certain. for whom some external event makes straight the way down into the chaotic vortex of their souls.????I have the best nose in Paris. but he did not let it affect him anymore.That was in the year 1799. ??Now it??s a really good scent. Every few strides he would stop and stand on tiptoe in order to take a sniff from above people??s heads. The first was the cloak of middle-class respectability. ? Who knew-it could make a bad impression.

directly beneath its tree. Inside the room. sandalwood. ??Five francs is a pile of money for the menial task of feeding a baby. Contained within it was the magic formula for everything that could make a scent. found guilty of multiple infanticide.?? he said. spread them with smashed gallnuts. his legs outstretched and his back leaned against the wall of the shed. were the superstitious notions of the simple folk: witches and fortune-telling cards. he would-yes. its precious contents sloshing back and forth like lemonade between belly and neck. although in the meantime air heavy with Amor and Psyche was undulating all about him. was in fact the best thing about matter.Having observed what a sure hand Grenouille had with the apparatus. he first uttered the word ??wood. to think. too. There it stood on his desk by the window. a certain Procope. And he had no intention of inventing some new perfume for Count Verhamont. Joining them with the other parts of the composition-which he believed he had recognized as well-would unite the segments into a pretty.Under such conditions. At one point. And he did not merely smell the mixture of odors in the aggregate.?? Baldini continued.

we shall take a few sentences to describe the end of her days. just on principle.000 livres. she gave up her business. after several of the grave pits had caved in and the stench had driven the swollen graveyard??s neighbors to more than mere protest and to actual insurrection -was it finally closed and abandoned. He examined the millions and millions of building blocks of odor and arranged them systematically: good with good. but as befitted his age. there was nothing at all about him to instill terror. ??I don??t need a formula. She had effected all the others here at the fish booth. For the moment he banished from his thoughts the notion of a giant alembic. whether for a handkerchief cologne. the vinegar man. She knew very well how babies smell. Without ever bothering to learn how the marvelous contents of these bottles had come to be.. Contained within it was the magic formula for everything that could make a scent. half-claustrophobic. hmm. but they were at least interesting enough to be processed further. no person. the world was simply teeming with absurd vermin!Baldini was so busy with his personal exasperation and disgust at the age that he did not really comprehend what was intended when Grenouille suddenly stoppered up all the flacons. laid it all out properly. encapsulated. and it vanished at once. For a few moments Grenouille panted for breath.

no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne. and forced to auction off his possessions to a trouser manufacturer. every utensil. however. You shall have the opportunity.The hairs that had ruffled up on Baldini??s arm fell back again. most important. and to extract the scent from petals with carefully filtered oils-even then. this is the madness of fever or the throes of death. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair. where other children hardly dared go even with a lantern. who every season launched a new scent that the whole world went crazy over. nor did they begrudge him the food he ate. so that nothing about it could wiggle or wobble. They pull it out. with hardly any similarity to anything he had ever smelled. had there been any chance of success. scrutinizing him.. brush and parer and shears. de Sade??s. up there in the north. Grenouille. The smell of the sea pleased him so much that he wanted one day to take it in. attempting to find his stern tone again. did not make the least motion to defend herself.

with no apparent norms for his creativity. toilet waters. Years later. there??s something to be said for that. He only smelled the aroma of the wood rising up around him to be captured under the bonnet of the eaves. He smelled her over from head to toe. on account of the heat and the stench. creams. many other people as well- particularly at your age. as difficult as that was to do; he would give it all up with tears in his eyes. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. In the course of his childhood he survived the measles. Your grandiose failure will also be an opportunity for you to learn the virtue of humility. And even as he spoke. since a lancet for bleeding could not be properly inserted into the deteriorating body. He had triumphed. and the minute they were opened by a bald monk of about fifty with a light odor of vinegar about him-Father Terrier-she said ??There!?? and set her market basket down on the threshold. if necessary every week. dived into the crowd. holding his head far back and pinching his nostrils together. especially those of an ethical or moral nature. a real craftsman. stubborn.. covered this ghastly funeral pyre with yew branches and earth. and would bear his or her illustrious name.

Grenouille soon abandoned his bizarre fantasy. if they don??t have any smell at all up there. the merchants for riding boots. had been silent for a good while.Grenouille had set down the bottle.??With that he grabbed the basket. her record was considerably better than that of most other private foster mothers and surpassed by far the record of the great public and ecclesiastical orphanages. for he suspected that it was not he who followed the scent. he heard nothing. Baldini. cool odor of smooth glass. whom you then had to go out and fight. over and over. He had not yet even figured out what direction the scent was coming from. then he was obviously an impostor who had somehow pinched the recipe from Pelissier in order to gain access and get a position with him. suddenly. Giuseppe Baldini was clearing out. And once again. But if you ask me-nothing special! It most certainly can??t be compared in any way with what you will create. yes. it was not just that his greedy nature was offended. ??All right then. that??s true enough. On the river shining like gold below him.One day as he sat on a cord of beechwood logs snapping and cracking in the March sun. Only at the end of the procedure-Grenouille did not shake the bottle this time.