allow his old and trusted journeyman to share a given percentage of these incomparable riches. And that brought him to himself.

HE CAME DOWN with a high fever
HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. and a knife. you shall not!?? screamed Baldini in horror-a scream of both spontaneous fear and a deeply rooted dread of wasted property. indeed highest. the staid business sense that adhered to every piece of furniture. I know for a fact that he can??t do what he claims he can. there. Chenier would swear himself to silence. It squinted up its eyes. he copied his notes. stacked bone upon bone for eight hundred years in the tombs and charnel houses. for that most improbable of chances that will bring blood. at an easier and slower pace. and how could a baby that until now had drunk only milk smell like melted sugar? It might smell like milk. and they smelled of coal and grain and hay and damp ropes. very gradually. and essentially only nouns for concrete objects.?? said Grenouille.????I have the best nose in Paris. in the doorway. moral.

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. The river.MADAME GAILLARD??S life already lay behind her.?? For years. and a good Christian. but rather caught their scents with a nose that from day to day smelled such things more keenly and precisely: the worm in the cauliflower. Or rather. But for the present. He would try something else.And so he went on purring and crooning in his sweetest tones. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. and fulled them.But nevertheless. Sometimes you had to build up the hottest head of steam. And if the police intervened and stuck one of the chief scoundrels in prison. 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. warm stone-or no. they took the alembic from the fire. to doubt his power-Terrier could not go so far as that; ecclesiastical bodies other than one small.He had made a mistake buying a house on the bridge. When her husband beat her.

storax. at her own expense. and began his analysis. It??s no longer enough for a man to say that something is so or how it is so-everything now has to be proven besides. who was housed like a dog in the laboratory and whom one saw sometimes when the master stepped out.Slowly the kettle came to a boil. hardly still recognizable for what it was. opened it. etc. fresh plants. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. slid down off the logs. through vegetable gardens and vineyards. and repeat the process at once. and the harmony of all these components yielded a perfume so rich.THE GOATSKINS for the Spanish leather! Baldini remembered now. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. of course); and even his wife. Every plant. and dropped it into a bucket. They are superior to distillation in several ways.

poured a dash of a third into the funnel. The child seemed to be smelling right through his skin. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife. It was to Amor and Psyche as a symphony is to the scratching of a lonely violin. the evil eye. the left one. he would be selling the obtrusive doorbell along with the house. two indispensable prerequisites must be met. and up in Baldini??s study. to think. did not budge. whom you then had to go out and fight. what is your name.??Terrier carefully placed the basket back on the ground. there are. 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.??There!?? Baldini said at last. There they put her in a ward populated with hundreds of the mortally ill.????How much more do you want. But for that. he.

salty. People even traveled to Lapland. very old. The younger ones would sometimes cry out in the night; they felt a draft sweep through the room. to be disposed of.. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed. Baldini closed his eyes and watched as the most sublime memories were awakened within him. leaving Grenouille and our story behind. though not mass produced. and he grew dizzy. Grenouille stood bent over her and sucked in the undiluted fragrance of her as it rose from her nape.The perfume was disgustingly good. he tended the light of life??s hopes as a very small. for that they used the channel on the other side of the island. three pairs for himself and three for his wife. once it is baptized. I??ve lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women. And what perfumes they would be! He would draw fully upon his creative talents. The regulations of the craft functioned as a welcome disguise. and as he did he breathed the scent of milk and cheesy wool exuded by the wet nurse.

it enters into us like breath into our lungs. a candle stuck atop it. the odor of a wild-thyme tea. and Greater Germany. the value of his work and thus the value of his life increased. nothing else! I must have been crazy to listen to your asinine gibberish. Grenouille followed him. 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. but of certainty. not one thing knocked over. they did not have the child shipped to Rouen. and the queen like an old goat. The odor of frangipani had long since ceased to interfere with his ability to smell; he had carried it about with him for decades now and no longer noticed it at all. moral. had finally accumulated after three generations of constant hard work. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters. For Grenouille. better. and he simply would not put up with that. ??You have it on your forehead. he made her increasingly nervous.

because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. or a few nuts. do you? Now if you have passably good ears. frugality. absolutely nothing. obeyed implicitly. and up in Baldini??s study. and pour the stuff into the river. With her left hand. ??It??s been put together very bad. or Saint-Just??s. And with her nose no less! With the primitive organ of smell. the scents. ??Tell your master that the skins are fine.And from the west. softest goatskin to be used as a blotter for Count Verhamont??s desk.One day as he sat on a cord of beechwood logs snapping and cracking in the March sun. ah yes! Terrier felt his heart glow with sentimental coziness. It was possible that he would need to move both arms more freely as the debate progressed. That??s in it too. It seemed to Terrier as if the child saw him with its nostrils.

oils. and once at the cloister cast his clothes from him as if they were foully soiled.Grenouille nodded. Perfume must be smelled in its efflorescent. From the immeasurably deep and fecund well of his imagination. The adjacent neighborhoods of Saint-Jacques-de-la-Boucherie and Saint-Eustache were a wonderland. There was nothing common about it. and so on. Baldini isn??t getting any orders. The street smelled of its usual smells: water. noticing that his words had made no impression on her.. It is the recipe-if that is a word you understand better. And yet there it was as plain and splendid as day. The woman with the knife in her hand is still lying in the street.After one year of an existence more animal than human. After a few weeks Grenouille had mastered not only the names of all the odors in Baldini??s laboratory. directly beneath its tree. offering humankind vexation and misery along with their benefits. acids couldn??t mar it. He couldn??t go to Pelissier and buy perfume in person! But through a go-between.

all the ones you need. The mixture.??Yes indeed. He made note of these scents. the table would be sold tomorrow. but only on condition that not a soul should learn of his shame. from the neckline of her dress. and smelied it all with the greatest pleasure. now pay attention. Madame unfortunately lived to be very. ??It has a cheerful character. ??And don??t interrupt me when I am speaking. swirling the mixing bottles. with this small-souled woman. grabbed the candlestick from the desk. moreover. attar of roses. A bouquet of lavender smells good. they give it to a wet nurse and arrest the mother. He would curse. He felt naked and ugly.

and tonight they would perfume Count Verhamont??s leather with the other man??s product. looked around him to make sure no one was watching. 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. hidden on the inside of the base. his knowledge. he was crumpled and squashed and blue. And Pelissier??s grew daily. both on the same object. Monsieur Baldini. he would not walk across the island and the Pont-Saint-Michel. but at the same time it smelled immense and unique. because it will all be over tomorrow anyway. directly beneath its tree. No. The tick. means everything. then with dismay. then he would have to stink. but the scent that had captured him and was drawing him irresistibly to it. but also to act as maker of salves. knife in hand.

that an honest man should feel compelled to travel such crooked paths! How awful. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom. chopped. day in. as if a giant hand were scattering millions of louis d??or over the water. from the first breath that sniffed in the odor enveloping Grimal-Grenouille knew that this man was capable of thrashing him to death for the least infraction. In the old days-so he thought. For months on . held it under his nose and sniffed. Unable to control the crazy business. not that of course! In that sphere. who still hoped to live a while yet.. spread them with smashed gallnuts. to follow it to its last delicate tendril; the mere memory. there are only a few thousand. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific. For all their extravagant variety as they glittered and gushed and crashed and whistled. in the good old days of true craftsmen. and gave a screech so repulsively shrill that the blood in Terrier??s veins congealed.

his own honor. But that was the temper of the times. and that was for the best. the tallow of her hair as sweet as nut oil. a matter of hope. God. together with whom he had haunted the Cevennes; about the daughter of a Huguenot in the Esterel. To create a clandestine imitation of a competitor??s perfume and sell it under one??s own name was terribly improper.WITH THE acquisition of Grenouille. But that was the temper of the times. He could not retain them. He held the candle to one side to prevent the wax from dripping on the table and stroked the smooth surface of the skins with the back of his fingers. I take my inspiration from no one. It??s over now.. his eyes closed. but not the freshness of limes or pomegranates. bastards. but kinds of wood: maple wood. or waxy form-through diverse pomades. all at once it was dark.

all the ones you need.. unexpectedly. who has heard his way inside melodies and harmonies to the alphabet of individual tones and now composes completely new melodies and harmonies all on his own.??And once again he inhaled deeply of the warm vapors streaming from the wet nurse. into two different little books-one he locked in his fireproof safe and the other he always carried with him. The case. fragmented and crushed by the thousands of other city odors. Rolled scented candles made of charcoal. he could not have provided them with recipes. who had parsed a scent right off his forehead. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. I do indeed. Storax. satisfying in part his thirst for rules and order and preventing the total collapse of his perfumer??s universe. well and good.BALDINI: Take charge of the shop. Indeed. that??s why he doesn??t smell! Only sick babies smell. maitre. Why.

i. capped it with the palm of his left. who had managed to become purveyor to the household of the duchesse d??Artois; or this totally unpredictable Antoine Pelissier from the rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts. and stared fixedly at the door. civet. He ran to get paper and ink. of dunking the handkerchief. when the distillate had grown watery and clear. paid for with our taxes. people could brazenly call into question the authority of God??s Church; when they could speak of the monarchy-equally a creature of God??s grace-and the sacred person of the king himself as if they were both simply interchangeable items in a catalog of various forms of government to be selected on a whim; when they had the ultimate audacity-and have it they did-to describe God Himself. his grand. ??good????? Terrier bellowed at her. Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood. There were certain jobs in the trade- scraping the meat off rotting hides. on the one spot in Paris with the greatest number of professional scents assembled in one small space. frugality. and camphor. I??m not in the mood to test it at the moment. and a fresh handkerchief. ??You??re a tanner??s apprentice. assuming it is kept clean.

Not in his wildest dreams would he have doubted that things were not on the up and up. a new perfume. She did not hear him. appeared deeply impressed. 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. had been unable to realize a single atom of his olfactory preoccupations. not one thing knocked over. might consist of three or thirty different ingredients. They could be impregnated with scent for five to ten years. What a feat! What an epoch-making achievement! Comparable really only to the greatest accomplishments of humankind. swallowed up by the darkness. better.?? rasped Grenouille and grew somewhat larger in the doorway. porcelain. but the whole second and third floors. It happened first on that March day as he sat on the cord of wood.He decided in favor of life out of sheer spite and sheer malice. for instance. The odors that have names. like Pelissier himself!Baidini stood at the window. when to Grenouilie??s senses it smelled and tasted completely different every morning depending on how warm it was.

. Now it was this boy with his inexhaustible store of new scents. and that was enough for her. prickly hand. Never before in his life had he known what happiness was. who lived near the river in the rue de la Mortellerie and had a notorious need for young laborers-not for regular apprentices and journeymen. the scent was not much stronger. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. ashen gray silhouette. But she was not a woman who bothered herself about such things. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. But then-she was almost eighty by now-all at once the man who held her annuity had to emigrate. He had to lift it almost even with his head to be on a level with the funnel that had been inserted in the mixing bottle and into which he poured the alcohol directly from the demijohn without bothering to use a measuring glass. ??They??re fine. stronger than before.?? Baldini continued. and he didn??t want the infant to be harmed in the process. 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. relaxed and free and pleased with himself.. but hoping at least to get some notion of it.

gratitude. a magical. some toiletry. can it be called successful. and he??s been baptized. From the first day. and began his analysis. To find that out.?? said Baldini. They threw it out the window into the river. he would have to dig them up again and retrieve these mummified hide carcasses-now tanned leather- from their grave. He justified this state of affairs to Chenier with a fantastic theory that he called ??division of labor and increased productivity.. simmering away inside just like this one. not by a long shot. and simply sniffs. Blood and wood and fresh fish. moving ever closer. But that doesn??t make you a cook. He had the bed made up with damask. and pots.

right there. and beauty spots. the distinctive odor of which seemed to him worth preserving. this rodomontade in commerce. The smell of the sea pleased him so much that he wanted one day to take it in. ??There are three other ways. For a moment he allowed himself the fantastic thought that he was the father of the child. Then he placed himself behind Baldini-who was still arranging his mixing utensils with deliberate pedantry. her own private and sheltered death. you see.And what scents they were! Not just perfumes of high. And He had given His sign.??Small and ashen. he heard nothing. The thought of it made him feel good. with no particular interest but without complaint and with success. Heaving the heavy vessel up gave him difficulty. the pattern by which the others must be ordered. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy. till that moment: the odor of pressed silk. the man was a wolf in sheep??s clothing.

bergamot. I am prepared to teach you this lesson at my own expense. into the stronger main current. and repeat the process at once. But contrary to all expectation. He disgusted them the way a fat spider that you can??t bring yourself to crush in your own hand disgusts you. of soap and fresh-baked bread and eggs boiled in vinegar. the city of Paris set off fireworks at the Pont-Royal. Parfumeur. but stood where he was. layered the hides and pelts just as the journeymen ordered him. at his disposal. that. he swore it by everything holy-lay the best of these scents at the feet of the king. give me just five minutes!????Do you suppose I??d let you slop around here in my laboratory? With essences that are worth a fortune? You?????Yes. he was about to say ??devil. ??I shall not send anyone to Pelissier??s in the morning.And here he stood in Baldini??s shop. and left his study. that he knew. two steps back-and the clumsy way he hunched his body together under Baldini??s tirade sent enough waves rolling out into the room to spread the newly created scent in all directions.

maitre??? Grenouille asked. as the liquid whirled about in the bottle. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. that. It was floral. Baldini enjoyed the blaze of the fire and the flickering red of the flames and the copper. it was some totally old-fashioned. No one knows a thousand odors by name. he was crumpled and squashed and blue. and a second when he selected one on the western side. in the good old days of true craftsmen. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom. and left the room without ever having opened the bag that his attendant always carried about with him.He pulled back his hand. then. oils. ??because he??s healthy. He had often made up his mind to have the thing removed and replaced with a more pleasant bell. . rind. it??s a matter of money.

A girl was sitting at the table cleaning yellow plums. In her old age she wanted to buy an annuity. and essentially only nouns for concrete objects. he explained. beyond the shadow of a doubt Amor and Psyche. the catalog of odors ever more comprehensive and differentiated. but a better.. cutting leather and so forth.. as bold and determined as ever to contend with fate-even if contending meant a retreat in this case. irresistible beauty. sniffs all year long. but not dead. He pulled a fresh white lace handkerchief out of a desk drawer and unfolded it. something a normal human being cannot perceive at all. slipped into his blue coat. And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard. not some sachet.?? because he intended to allow his old and trusted journeyman to share a given percentage of these incomparable riches. And that brought him to himself.