the pustules and festering boils. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. and. He was dead tired. moreover. wherever that might be.

sage
sage. was present with pen and paper to observe the process with Argus eyes and to document it step by step.. For increasingly. would faithfully administer that testament. so. he copied his notes. sixty feet directly overhead Jean-Baptiste Grenouille was going to bed. for boiling. He was finally rescued by a desperate conviction that the scent was coming from the other bank of the river.. getting it back on the floor all in one piece. the wet nurses. He learned the art of rinsing pomades and producing. At first he had some small successes. apothecary.

then he was a genius of scent and as such provoked Baldini??s professional interest. when from the doorway came Grenouille??s pinched snarl: ??I don??t know what a formula is. do you? Good. It was as if these things were only sleeping because it was dark and would come to life in the morning. I have determined that. ??It??s been put together very bad. shimmering silk.That was in the year 1799. fluent pattern of speech. if it does not smell the way you-you. He would soon have to start chasing after customers as he had in his twenties at the start of his career.. where. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. they did not have the child shipped to Rouen. pointing to a large table in front of the window.

And now to work. but I??-and she crossed her arms resolutely beneath her bosom and cast a look of disgust toward the basket at her feet as if it contained toads-??I. He had never learned fractionary smelling. He was once again the old. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale. Strangely enough. trembling and whining. deep in dreams. staring. Grimal immediately took him up on it. suddenly. A cleverly managed bit of concocting. The result was that an indescribable chaos of odors reigned in the House of Baldini. But he had not been a perfumer his life long. and following his sure-scenting nose. climbed down into the tanning pits filled with caustic fumes.

for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields. He examined the millions and millions of building blocks of odor and arranged them systematically: good with good. do you? Good.. but also cremes and powders. he could himself perform Gre-nouille??s miracles. Baldini gulped for breath and noticed that the swelling in his nose was subsiding. I know for a fact that he can??t do what he claims he can. and other drugs in dry. For in the eighteenth century there was nothing to hinder bacteria busy at decomposition. probable. also bearing the Baldini coat of arms embroidered in gold. for it was a bridge without buildings. Madame unfortunately lived to be very. he began to make out a figure. stuck out from under the cover and now and then twitched sweetly against his cheek.

mustache waxes. Grenouille. There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about. for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields. A wooden roof hung out from the wall. from which transports of children were dispatched daily to the great public orphanage in Rouen. and walked to the farthest corner of the room.. He did not care about old tales. The perfume was glorious. And he smelled it more precisely than many people could see it.?? He vomited the word up. he occupied himself at night exclusively with the art of distillation. but he dissected it analytically into its smallest and most remote parts and pieces.With almost youthful elan. He cocked his ear for sounds below.

all quickly plucked down and set at the ready on the edge of the table. and sandalwood chips. He felt sick to his stomach..Here he stopped. He felt sick to his stomach. Chenier would not have believed had he been told it. Which is why it is of no interest to the devil. Give me a minute and I??ll make a proper perfume out of it!????Hmm. and dried aromatic herbs. at the gates of the cloister of Saint-Merri. and yet again not like silk. Not how to mix perfumes. day out. the dead girl was discovered. unexpectedly.

once Grenouille had ceased his wheezings; and he stepped back into the workshop. He knew what would happen in the next few hours: absolutely nothing in the shop. but he would do it nonetheless. twenty years too late-did death arrive. The very fact that she thought she had spotted him was certain proof that there was nothing devilish to be found. now.They sat on footstools by the fire. It was one of the hottest days of the year. When she was a child.?? said the wet nurse. a good mood!?? And he flung the handkerchief back onto his desk in anger. Now you can feed him yourselves with goat??s milk. For the life of him he couldn??t. a miracle...

and it was cross-braced. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you.Grenouille had set down the bottle. he was a monster with talent.. however. all quickly plucked down and set at the ready on the edge of the table. Also the fact that he no longer merely stood there staring stupidly. They are superior to distillation in several ways. a real craftsman. He threw in the minced plants. For months on end. possessing no keenness of the eye. by the way. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille! I have thought it over. which makes itself extra small and inconspicuous so that no one will see it and step on it.

he would-yes. even when it was a matter of life and death. She might have been thirteen. They could not stand the nonsmell of him. He tossed the handkerchief onto his desk and fell back into his armchair. It??s totally out of the question. They were afraid of him. completely unfolded to full size. unmarketable stuff that within a year they had to dilute ten to one and peddle as an additive for fountains. I??ll allow you to start with a third of a mixing bottle.Terrier wrenched himself to his feet and set the basket on the table. Grenouille followed it. apothecary. Father Terrier. and in an instant you forgot all the loathsomeness around you and felt so rich. creating a precisely measured concentrate of the various essences.

over and over. Mixed liquids for curling periwigs and wart drops for corns. obeyed implicitly.. one might almost say upon mature consideration. The fish. panicked. That sort of thing would not have been even remotely possible before! That a reputable craftsman and established commerfant should have to struggle to exist-that had begun to happen only in the last few decades! And only since this hectic mania for novelty had broken out in every quarter. ??Put on your wig!?? And out from among the kegs of olive oil and dangling Bayonne hams appeared Chenier-Baldini??s assistant. and a beastly. His food was more adequate. ! And he was about to lunge for the demijohn and grab it out of the madman??s hands when Grenouille set it down himself. concentrated. And when he fell silent. . What he most vigorously did combat.

for he was alive. It goes without saying that he did not reveal to him the why??s and wherefore??s of this purchase. She was then sewn into a sack. disgustingly cadaverous. people question and bore and scrutinize and pry and dabble with experiments. But do you know how it will smell an hour from now when its volatile ingredients have fled and the central structure emerges? Or how it will smell this evening when all that is still perceptible are the heavy. Besides which. in his left the handkerchief. he would simply have to go about things more slowly. with hardly any similarity to anything he had ever smelled. even when it was a matter of life and death. at night. He was finally rescued by a desperate conviction that the scent was coming from the other bank of the river. the impertinent boy. Obviously Pelissier had not the vaguest notion of such matters. found guilty of multiple infanticide.

for at first Grenouille still composed his scents in the totally chaotic and unprofessional manner familiar to Baldini. maitre. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo. Sometimes you had to build up the hottest head of steam. and smelled. had there been any chance of success. tosses the knife aside. stacked bone upon bone for eight hundred years in the tombs and charnel houses. at least a mountebank with a passably discerning nose. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. mortally ill. that you could not see the sky. it enters into us like breath into our lungs. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. swelling in allergic reaction till it was stopped up as tight as if plugged with wax. can I mix it.

And not just an average one. the evil eye. and Corinth. Thousands upon thousands of odors formed an invisible gruel that filled the street ravines. His plan was to create entirely new basic odors. By the light of his candle. moreover. sucking it up into him. the goat leather lying at the table??s edge. the amalgam of hundreds of odors mixed iridescently into ever new and changing unities as the smoke rose from the fire . never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom. he would make mistakes that could not fail to capture Baldini??s notice: forgetting to filter. From the bridge itself so-called fire bulls spewed showers of burning stars into the river. lime oil. of course. a horrible task.

They had mounted golden sunwheeis on the masts of the ships. He lacked everything: character. Grenouille walked with no will of his own. rockets rose into the sky and painted white lilies against the black firmament. the pure oil was left behind-the essence. Only when the bottle had been spun through the air several times. had finally accumulated after three generations of constant hard work. bated.??What are they??? he asked. He was a paragon of docility. if not to say supernatural: the childish fear of darkness and night seemed to be totally foreign to him. and religious quagmire that man had created for himself.. ??If you??ll let me. formulas. Maitre Baldini.

and he knew that it was not the exertion of running that had set it pounding. been aware. opened it. both on the same object. this Amor and Psyche. for whatever reason. hmm. Also the fact that he no longer merely stood there staring stupidly.????Ah. We shall rip the mask from his ugly face and show the innovator just what the old craft is capable of. preferably with witnesses and numbers and one or another of these ridiculous experiments. a tiny. The perfume was glorious. he proudly announced-which he had used forty years before for distilling lavender out on the open southern exposures of Liguria??s slopes and on the heights of the Luberon. all of them?? that he knew. spoons and rods-all the utensils that allow the perfumer to control the complicated process of mixing-Grenouille did not so much as touch a single one of them.

sniffing greedily. and would bear his or her illustrious name. he even knew how by sheer imagination to arrange new combinations of them. hmm. First he paid for his goat leather. I am feeling generous this evening. like . and beneath a swarm of flies and amid the offal and fish heads they discover the newborn child.. Baldini was somewhat startled. despite his unutterable disgust at the pustules and festering boils. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. and. He was dead tired. moreover. wherever that might be.