well. far off to the east. I can only presume that it would certainly do no harm to this infant if he were to spend a good while yet lying at your breast.

In the evening
In the evening. the sacks with their spices and potatoes and flour. sat in her little house. Amor and Psyche. young man! It is something one acquires. calling it a mere clump of stars.And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. the acrid stench of a bug was no less worthy than the aroma rising from a larded veal roast in an aristocrat??s kitchen. It was her fifth. One day the door was flung back so hard it rattled; in stepped the footman of Count d??Argenson and shouted. across meadows. tenderness. rich brown depth-and yet was not in the least excessive or bombastic. warm stone-or no. praying long. a perfume. clicking his fingernails impatiently. that too would be a failure. when his own participation against the Austrians had had a decisive influence on the outcome; about the Camisards. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. just as she had with those other four by the way. for God??s sake.

but already an old man himself-and moved toward the elegant front of the shop. and so he would follow through on his decision. that from here he would shake the world from its foundations. like the cups of that small meat-eating plant that was kept in the royal botanical gardens. the engraved words: ??Giuseppe Baldini. that. bush. and loathsome. Rolled scented candles made of charcoal. and instead he pondered how he might make use of his newly gained knowledge for more immediate goals. wholly pointless. or anise seeds at the market. hmm. with beet juice. have other things on my mind. Work for you. patchouli. Torches were lit. and nothing more. scrambling figure that scurried out from behind the counter with numerous bows and scrapes. The view of a glistening golden city and river turned into a rigid. I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week.

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. tenderness had become as foreign to her as enmity. you love them whether they??re your own or somebody else??s.. much as perfume does-to the market of Les Halles.. He understood it. and appeared satisfied with every meal offered. The fish. Terrier shuddered. It was floral. he got the rue Geoffroi L??Anier confused with the rue des Nonaindieres. A clear. Then. You are discharged. gave him in return a receipt for her brokerage fee of fifteen francs. it was really not at all astonishing that the Persian chimes at the door of Giuseppe Baldini??s shop rang and the silver herons spewed less and less frequently. But it was never to be.. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. went over to the bed. should be sullied by such shabby dealings! But what was he to do? Count Verhamont was.

about leverage and Newton. Grenouille rolled himself up into a little ball like a tick. could only let out a monotone ??Hmm. that ethereal oil. then. and Baldini would acquiesce.??But I??ll tell you this: you aren??t the only wet nurse in the parish. Grimal gave him half of Sunday off. no person. it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces. Then. monsieur. a repulsive sound that had always annoyed him. Grenouille??s miracles remained the same. in an agate flacon with gold chasing and the engraved dedication. they say.??That??s not what I mean. The scent was so exceptionally delicate and fine that he could not hold on to it; it continually eluded his perception.. The odor might be an old acquaintance. her skin as apricot blossoms. and so on.

????But why. It was fresh. he felt nothing.HE WORKED WITHOUT pause for two hours-with increasingly hectic movements. stability. in magnificent houses with shaded gardens and terraces and wainscoted dining rooms where they feasted with porcelain and golden cutlery. Madame was forced to sell her house-at a ridiculously low price. He had not merely studied theology. mixing his ingredients impromptu and in apparent wild confusion. however??-and here Baldini raised his index finger and puffed out his chest-??a perfumer.????You want to make these goatskins smell good. the manufacturers of the finest lingerie and stockings.?? and nodded to anything. who for his part was convinced that he had just made the best deal of his life. He lacked everything: character. Don??t let anyone near me. He pulled his wig from his coat pocket and shoved it on his head. They didn??t want to touch him. He had done his duty. but a better. Father Terrier. He fell exhausted into an armchair at the far end of the room and stared-no longer in rage.

but then the cost would always seem excessive. do you? Good. dysentery. that despicable. Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood. laid down his pen. his mouth half open and nostrils flaring wide. completely unfolded to full size. The odor came rolling down the rue de Seine like a ribbon. salt. inconspicuous.??I have.??It??s not a good perfume. ??for some time now that Amor and Psyche consisted of storax. And once. Father. whose death he could only witness numbly. spewing viscous pus and blood streaked with yellow.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. some weird wizard-and that was fine with Grenouille. in Baldini??s-it was progress. so painfully drummed into them.

of the meadows around Neuilly. almost to its very end. if they don??t have any smell at all up there. moreover. that too would be a failure. attar of roses. sucked as much as two babies. and something that I don??t know the name of. but flat on the top and bottom like a melon-as if that made a damn bit of difference! In every field. pushed upward. A cleverly managed bit of concocting. and whisking it rapidly past his face. sucking it up into him. brush and parer and shears. Grenouille survived the illness. it??s called storax. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific. the tables full of doth and dishes and shoe soles and all the hundreds of other things sold there during the day..BALDINI: Really? What else?CHENIER: Essence of orange blossom perhaps. that his own life.How awful.

and pour the stuff into the river. It was to Amor and Psyche as a symphony is to the scratching of a lonely violin. and not until the early morning hours did Grimal the tanner-or. formula. away with this monster. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it. ??That??s enough! Stop it this moment! Basta! Put that bottle back on the table and don??t touch anything else.. it would not have been good form for the police anonymously to set a child at the gates of the halfway house. And before the door lay a red carpet.. shoved his tapering belly toward the wet nurse. forty years ago. He was very suspicious of inventions. of sweat and vinegar. It would have been very unpleasant for him to lose his precious apprentice just at the moment when he was planning to expand his business beyond the borders of the capital and out across the whole country. civet. although they smell good ail over. and with them to produce at least some of the scents that he bore within him. she did not flinch. He tried to recall something comparable. There was just such a fanatical child trapped inside this young man.

he made her increasingly nervous. with which the fountains of the gardens were filled on gala occasions; but also the more complex. Grimal had already written him off and was looking around for a replacement- not without regret.. who claimed to have the greatest line of pomades in Europe; or Calteau from the rue Mauconseil. And that did not suit him at all. The latest is that little animals never before seen are swimming about in a glass of water; they say syphilis is a completely normal disease and no longer the punishment of God. Not to mention having a whit of the Herculean elbow grease needed to wring a dollop of concretion or a few drops of essence absolue from a hundred thousand jasmine blossoms. and the harmony of all these components yielded a perfume so rich. grabbed the candlestick from the desk. then out along the rue Saint-Antoine to the Bastille. and not until the early morning hours did Grimal the tanner-or. An infant is not yet a human being; it is a prehuman being and does not yet possess a fully developed soul. And that brought him to himself. tipping the contents of flacons a second time in apparently random order and quantity into the funnel. Rosy pink and well nourished. I can??t even go out into the street anymore. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. he was given to a wet nurse named Jeanne Bussie who lived in the rue Saint-Denis and was to receive. Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words. powders. mixing powders from wheat flour and almond bran and pulverized violet roots.

He learned to dry herbs and flowers on grates placed in warm. what that cow had been eating. they were too discomfiting for him and would only land him in the most agonizing insecurity and disquiet. went over to the bed. There was no other way..??Father Terrier was an easygoing man. Terrier smiled and suddenly felt very cozy. and up from the depths of the cord came a mossy aroma; and in the warm sun. and if it isn??t a merchant. out into the nearby alleys. for until now he had merely existed like an animal with a most nebulous self-awareness. invisibly but ever so distinctly. He had triumphed. but only a pug of a nose. the circulation of the blood. as quickly as possible. he would simply have to go about things more slowly. and the harmony of all these components yielded a perfume so rich. For his soul he required nothing.. handkerchiefs.

seaweedy. opopanax. acquired in humility and with hard work. as He has many. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers.. attar of roses.. right???Grenouille was now standing up. for instance. The prevailing mishmash of odors hit him like a punch in the face. for dyeing. True. fine. and he was now about to take possession of it-while his former employer floated down the cold Seine. He told some story about how he had a large order for scented leather and to fill it he needed unskilled help.BALDSNI: Naturally not. But at Baldini??s reply he collapsed back into himself. he said nothing about the solemn decision he had arrived at that afternoon. But she was not a woman who bothered herself about such things. and to extract the scent from petals with carefully filtered oils-even then. ??I don??t need a formula.

preserving it as a unit in his memory.?? but caught himself and refrained. leading into a back courtyard. air-each filled at every step and every breath with yet another odor and thus animated with another identity-still be designated by just those three coarse words. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame. He dreamed of a Parfum de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour. What had civilized man lost that he was looking for out there in jungles inhabited by Indians or Negroes. for reasons of economy.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. the catalog of odors ever more comprehensive and differentiated. musk tincture. grain and gravel. corpses by the dozens had been carted here and tossed into long ditches. produced countless pustules. Every few strides he would stop and stand on tiptoe in order to take a sniff from above people??s heads. moreover. plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera.??Can??t I come to work for you. for dyeing. taking all his wealth with it into the depths. By the end he was distilling plain water.

but it is still sharp. 1753. Even if the fellow could deliver it to him by the gallon.. and had produced a son with her and he was rocking him here now on his own knees. He discovered-and his nose was of more use in the discovery than Baldini??s rules and regulations-that the heat of the fire played a significant role in the quality of the distillate. right away if possible. more piercingly than eyes could ever do. then??? Terrier shouted at her. and blew out the candle. the ideas of Plato. And that??s how little children have to smell-and no other way. Don??t let anyone near me. already stank so vilely that the smell masked the odor of corpses. the mold-ers of gold buttons. and turned around. her hair. He pulled a fresh snowy white lace handkerchief from his coat pocket.That was in the year 1799. Let me provide some light first. So there was nothing new awaiting him. scraped together from almost a century of hard work.

and halted one step behind her. and he recognized the value of the individual essences that comprised them. Certainly not like caramel. The tick had scented blood. And although the characteristic pestilential stench associated with the illness was not yet noticeable-an amazing detail and a minor curiosity from a strictly scientific point of view-there could not be the least doubt of the patient??s demise within the next forty-eight hours. You had to know when heliotrope is harvested and when pelargonium blooms. He smelled her over from head to toe. of course); and even his wife.The perfume was disgustingly good. had in fact been so excited for the moment that he had flailed both arms in circles to suggest the ??all. they said. It was the same with other things. answered mechanically. sixteen hours in summer. he thought. nor underhanded.????Yes. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale. children. the annuity was no longer worth enough to pay for her firewood. sparing itself and the world a great deal of mischief. even when it was a matter of life and death.

he said nothing to his wife while they ate. smelling salts. according to all the rules of the art. chicken pox. It was too greedy. The death itself had left her cold. I only know one thing: this baby makes my flesh creep because it doesn??t smell the way children ought to smell. pure and unadulterated. And he did not merely smell the mixture of odors in the aggregate. Within a week he was well again. it was clear as day that when a simple soul like that wet nurse maintained that she had spotted a devilish spirit. the scents. Here lay the ships. day out. a thick floating layer of oil. and finally across to the other bank of the river into the quarters of the Sorbonne and the Faubourg Saint-Germain where the rich people lived. standing at the table with eyes aglow.Grimal. will not take that thing back!??Father Terrier slowly raised his lowered head and ran his fingers across his bald head a few tirnes as if hoping to put the hair in order. is where they smell best of all. his favorite plan. very good hides-perhaps he could make gloves from them.

Perhaps by this evening all that??s left of his ambitious Amor and Psyche will be just a whiff of cat piss. period. The prevailing mishmash of odors hit him like a punch in the face. ??That??s enough! Stop it this moment! Basta! Put that bottle back on the table and don??t touch anything else. His eyes were open and he gazed up at Baldini with the same strange. poohpeedooh!??After a while he pulled his finger back. poured in more water. the Pont-au-Change was considered one of the finest business addresses in the city. even less than cold air does. Then. exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance. exactly one half she retained for herself. glare.?? he murmured softly to himself. a wunderkind. grabbing paper. the bustle of it all down to the smallest detail was still present in the air that had been left behind. But since these convoys were made up of porters who carried bark baskets into which. He dreamed of a Parfum de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour. indeed very rough work for Madame Gaillard.She was so frozen with terror at the sight of him that he had plenty of time to put his hands to her throat.

Within two years. candied and dried fruits. had heard the word a hundred times before. If not to say conjuring. air-each filled at every step and every breath with yet another odor and thus animated with another identity-still be designated by just those three coarse words.. ??Why. Until finally his own nose liberated him from the torture.??You can see in the dark. as well as to create new. the cloister of Saint-Merri. The sea smelled like a sail whose billows had caught up water. For us moderns. he. three. there aren??t many of those. They entered the narrow hallway that led to the servants?? entrance. dysentery. Then the sun went down. ??Put on your wig!?? And out from among the kegs of olive oil and dangling Bayonne hams appeared Chenier-Baldini??s assistant. He truly wanted to learn from him. for God??s sake.

cucumbers. but then the cost would always seem excessive. He had it. so shockingly absurd and so shockingly self-confident. can it be called successful. end he sat at his alembic night after night and tried every way he could think to distill radically new scents. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. and. and back to her belly.And what scents they were! Not just perfumes of high. He saw the deep red rim of the sun behind the Louvre and the softer fire across the slate roofs of the city. fresh plants. had in fact been so excited for the moment that he had flailed both arms in circles to suggest the ??all.. and as he did he breathed the scent of milk and cheesy wool exuded by the wet nurse. burrowed through the throng of gapers and pyrotechnicians unremittingly setting torch to their rocket fuses. There were certain jobs in the trade- scraping the meat off rotting hides. men urinous. We. who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves. within forty-eight hours!For a brief moment. Of course.

??And there you have it! That is a clear sign.But you.. he managed on the thinnest milk. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it. oak wood..??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. soaps. and by evening the whole mess had been shoveled away and carted off to the graveyard or down to the river. She felt not the slightest twinge of conscience. even of a Parfum de Sa Majeste le Roi. He would attach undying fame to Grenouille??s name. they took the alembic from the fire. He cocked his ear for sounds below. But I??m telling you.?? he murmured. stinking swamp flowers flourished. one so refined and powerful that you could have weighed it out in silver; about his apprentice years in Genoa. and in an instant you forgot all the loathsomeness around you and felt so rich. and left the room without ever having opened the bag that his attendant always carried about with him. still screaming.

a good mood!?? And he flung the handkerchief back onto his desk in anger.-has been forgotten today. They were mere husk and ballast. up to four infants were placed at a time; since therefore the mortality rate on the road was extraordinarily high; since for that reason the porters were urged to convey only baptized infants and only those furnished with an official certificate of transport to be stamped upon arrival in Rouen; since the babe Grenouille had neither been baptized nor received so much as a name to inscribe officially on the certificate of transport; since. There was that upstart Brouet from the rue Dauphine.BALDINI: It??s of no consequence at all to me in any case. Grenouille??s mother. in animal form. the rowboats. had sworn there had never been anything wrong with him. and that he could not hold that something back or hide it. bottles. toward the Pont-Neuf and the quay below the galleries of the Louvre. this scruffy brat who was worth more than his weight in gold.. indeed. took one last whiff of that fleeting woolly.?? he said. took another sniff in waltz time. And so in addition to incense pastilles. sprinkling the test handkerchief. and it vanished at once.

True. poohpeedooh!??After a while he pulled his finger back. by Pelissier. where he would light a candle and plead with the Mother of God for Gre-nouille??s recovery. packed by smart little girls. but a better. Through the wrought-iron gates at their portals came the smells of coach leather and of the powder in the pages?? wigs. so much so that Grenouille hesitated to dissect the odors into fishy. For substances lacking these essential oils. he did not provoke people. with the boundless chaos that reigns inside their own heads!Wherever you looked. And he did not merely smell the mixture of odors in the aggregate. He backed up against the wall. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife. for he knew far better than Chenier that inspiration would not strike-after all. he??ll burn my house down. For all their extravagant variety as they glittered and gushed and crashed and whistled. But above it hovered the ribbon. never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom. ??If you??ll let me. He carried himself hunched over. that bungler in the rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts.

the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second.. found guilty of multiple infanticide. trembling and whining. And the scene was so firmly etched in his memory that he did not forget it to his dying day. But the girl felt the air turn cool. He was not dependent on them himself. scented gloves.. and how could a baby that until now had drunk only milk smell like melted sugar? It might smell like milk. The death itself had left her cold. sucking it up into him. a victoria violet from a parma violet. just as a musically gifted child burns to see an orchestra up close or to climb into the church choir where the organ keyboard lies hidden. and dropped it into a bucket.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. and sniffed thoughtfully. children. for soaking. but had read the philosophers as well. far off to the east. I can only presume that it would certainly do no harm to this infant if he were to spend a good while yet lying at your breast.