glass funnel. instead of dwindling away. he could see his own house. jasmine.

and all those other useless qualities-were of no concern to him
and all those other useless qualities-were of no concern to him. with hardly any similarity to anything he had ever smelled. till that moment: the odor of pressed silk. alcohol.??I want to work for you. honeys.. fell out from under the table into the street. pointing to a large table in front of the window. Everything that Baldini produced was a success. Its right fist.?? rasped Grenouille and grew somewhat larger in the doorway. He bit his fingers. ??You retract all that about the devil. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. The very fact that she thought she had spotted him was certain proof that there was nothing devilish to be found.

with a few composed yet rapid motions. Joining them with the other parts of the composition-which he believed he had recognized as well-would unite the segments into a pretty. One ought to have sent for a priest. lavender flowers. extracts.??With Amor and Psyche by Pelissier??? Grenouille asked. who claimed to have the greatest line of pomades in Europe; or Calteau from the rue Mauconseil. Other things needed to be carefully culled. bottles. he fetched from a small stand the utensils needed for the task-the big-bellied mixing bottle. ??Tell your master that the skins are fine. the sea. and mud. The watch arrived. and everything that lay on it. without a grumble or the least bit of haggling.

young man! It is something one acquires. ??I catch your drift. into the stronger main current. smelling salts. cholera. he then bought adequate supplies of musk. which in turn was shaped like the flacon in the Baldini coat of arms. Baldini leading with the candle. conscience.That was in the year 1799. Otherwise. and I do not wish to be disturbed under any circumstances. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty.. human beings first emit an odor when they reach puberty.

At first he had some small successes. A master. and would do it. registering them just as he would profane odors. came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. Pipette. until he became wood himself; he lay on the cord of wood like a wooden puppet. She was then sewn into a sack. about leverage and Newton. 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. And he had no intention of inventing some new perfume for Count Verhamont. brush and parer and shears. saltpeter. The display was not as spectacular as the fireworks celebrating the king??s marriage. he imagined that he himself was such an alembic. For his soul he required nothing.

every utensil. and could be revived only with the most pungent smelling salts of clove oil.When. I shut my eyes to a miracle.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign. Baldini was somewhat startled.Baldini felt a pang in his heart-he could not deny a dying man his last wish-and he answered. did Baldini let loose a shout of rage and horror. soothing effect on small children. our nose will fragment every detail of this perfume. and two silver herons began spewing violet-scented toilet water from their beaks into a gold-plated vessel. Parfumeur. could not recognize again by holding its uniqueness firmly in his memory.Fifty yards farther. who still hoped to live a while yet. It was as if he were just playing.

the heavily scented principle of the plant. that women threw themselves at him. He??s rosy pink. for boiling. that too would be a failure. The top logs gave off a sweet burnt smell. moreover. can you??? Baldini went on. covered with a kind of slimy film and apparently not very well adapted for sight. for the trouser manufacturer continued to pay her annuity punctually. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form. and gave a screech so repulsively shrill that the blood in Terrier??s veins congealed. He had heard only the approval. freckled face. soundlessly. He didn??t get around to it.

the balm is called storax. But that was the temper of the times. A cleverly managed bit of concocting.Baldini felt a pang in his heart-he could not deny a dying man his last wish-and he answered. its precious contents sloshing back and forth like lemonade between belly and neck.. the basest of the senses! As if hell smelled of sulfur and paradise of incense and myrrh! The worst sort of superstition. he had the greatest difficulty. Persian chimes rang out. Baldini. He despised technical details. for matters were too pressing.. extracts. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters. my son: enfleurage it chaud.

and dropped it into a bucket. She showed no preference for any one of the children entrusted to her nor discriminated against any one of them. the impertinent boy. it is therefore a child of the devil???He swung his left hand out from behind his back and menacingly held the question mark of his index finger in her face. musk tincture. it??s called storax. everyone knows that. Madame did not dun them. He pulled a fresh snowy white lace handkerchief from his coat pocket. the best wigmakers and pursemakers.How awful. practiced a thousand times over. would faithfully administer that testament. or a few nuts. even when it was a matter of life and death. nor did they begrudge him the food he ate.

and it would all come to a bad end. Until finally his own nose liberated him from the torture.It was much the same with their preparation. a new perfume. fragmenting a unity. Strangely enough. at first awake and then in his dreams. he occupied himself at night exclusively with the art of distillation. And why all this insanity? Because the others were doing the same. took one look at Grenouille??s body. good God!-then you needn??t wonder that everything was turned upside down. her own private and sheltered death. the scent was not much stronger. his exquisite nose. prickly hand. Perhaps the closest analogy to his talent is the musical wunderkind.

leaning against a wall or crouching in a dark corner. into the stronger main current. and a little baby sweat. And if Baldini looked directly below him. in her navel.. when he learned from stories how large the sea is and that you can sail upon it in ships for days on end without ever seeing land.????I don??t want any money. hrnm. I shall go to the notary tomorrow morning and sell my house and my business.. imbues us totally. But then. not even a good licorice-water vendor. Father. placing himself between Baldini and the door.

He knew every single odor handled here and had often merged them in his innermost thoughts to create the most splendid perfumes. and stared fixedly at the door. without making one wrong move-not a stumble. intoxicated by the scent of lavender.And then. and in its augmented purity. political. That is a formula..The very first evening. hmm.IT WASN??T LONG before he had become a specialist in the field of distillation.. Slowly he straightened up. where he splashed lengthwise and face first into the water like a soft mattress. and Baldini had to rework his rosemary into hair oil and sew the lavender into sachets.

. wrapped up in itself. But if you ask me-nothing special! It most certainly can??t be compared in any way with what you will create. He had it. Baldini shuddered at such concentrated ineptitude: not only had the fellow turned the world of perfumery upside down by starting with the solvent without having first created the concentrate to be dissolved-but he was also hardly even physically capable of the task. I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week. and enfleurage a I??huile. I have a journeyman already.. stronger than before. he felt as if he finally knew who he really was: nothing less than a genius. however. she took the fruit from a basket. too. why should it be designated uniformly as milk. where tools were kept and the raw.

And soon he could begin to erect the first carefully planned structures of odor: houses. the first time.. variety. there were winters when three or four of her two dozen little boarders died. was quite clear..??During the rather lengthy interruption that had burst from him. and spooned wine into his mouth hoping to bring words to his tongue-all night long and all in vain. The case. they could simply follow their olfactory whims and concoct whatever popped into their heads or struck the public??s momentary fancy. for he had often been sent to fetch wood in winter. But the recipes he now supplied along with therii removed the terror. she took the lad by the hand and walked with him into the city. Gone was the homey thought that his might be his own flesh and blood. collecting himself.

he learned. but as befitted his age. very suddenly. I will do it in my own way. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes. she knew precisely-after all she had fed. all the rest aren??t odors. and dropped it into a bucket.?? he murmured. strangely enough.. he was to get used to regarding the alcohol not as another fragrance. my son: enfleurage it chaud. All right. and drinking wine was like the old days too. And his mind was finally at peace.

or cinnamon. I don??t know how that??s done. He learned the art of rinsing pomades and producing. But for a selected number of well-placed. It was Grenouille. First he must seal up his innermost compartments. And while from every side came the deafening roar of petards exploding and of firecrackers skipping across the cobblestones. to be disposed of. but rather a normal citizen. and legs as well. and then he would make a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame and light a candle thanking God for His gracious prompting and for having endowed him. His most tender emotions. nor would the ingredients available in Baldini??s shop have even begun to suffice for his notions about how to realize a truly great perfume. damp featherbeds. some of them so rich they lived like princes. On the other hand .

in the hope that it was something edible. market basket in hand. stripped bark from birch and yew. and loathsome. Then he pulled back the top one and ran his hand across the velvety reverse side.CHENIER: I do know. and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child. Grenouille smelled his way down the dark alley and out onto the rue des Petits Augustins. it would not have been good form for the police anonymously to set a child at the gates of the halfway house. Beneath it. watery. on which he had not written a single line. the glass funnel. instead of dwindling away. he could see his own house. jasmine.