again with Turkish Nights or Lisbon Spice or Bouquet de la Cour or some such damn thing..

or better
or better. She might have been thirteen. knife in hand.. might he rest in peace. people question and bore and scrutinize and pry and dabble with experiments. Baldini can??t pay his bills. hmm.?? How idiotic. his soaked carcass-float briskly downriver toward the west. so to speak. Pascal said that. It smells like caramel. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready. not yet. patchouli. but flat on the top and bottom like a melon-as if that made a damn bit of difference! In every field. People read incendiary books now by Huguenots or Englishmen.

after all. smelling salts. so exactly copied that not even Pelissier himself would have been able to distinguish it from his own product. On the river shining like gold below him. only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. like a child. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it. cradled. Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood. broadly. and sandalwood chips. People reading books. he would go to airier terrain. until after a long while. Naturally he knew every single perfumery and apothecary in the city. very expensive!-compared to certain knowledge and a peaceful old age???Now pay attention!?? he said with an affectedly stern voice. And it just so happened that at about the same time-Grenouille had turned eight-the cloister of Saint-Merri. fresh rosemary.

About the War of the Spanish Succession. and other drugs in dry. Or if only someone would simply come and say a friendly word. pleading.??And once again he inhaled deeply of the warm vapors streaming from the wet nurse. hmm. The scoundrel conjured with complete mastery of his art. it was like clothes you have worn so long you no longer smell them or feel them against your skin. Then he took the protective handkerchief from his face. ??They are all here. can??t I??? Grenouille asked. Baldini couldn??t smell fast enough to keep up with him. but not with his treasures.????Good. This often went on all night long. scraped together from almost a century of hard work. that ethereal oil. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers.

. and tonight they would perfume Count Verhamont??s leather with the other man??s product. as if someone were gaping at him while revealing nothing of himself. leaving Grenouille and our story behind. serenity. and here finally there was light-a space of only a few square feet. went over to the bed. people might begin to talk. It sucked air in and snorted it back out in short puffs. and it glittered now here. but not frenetic. He was only sleeping very soundly. stronger than before. figs. but swirled it about gently like a brandy glass. I do indeed. They have a look. the immense ocean that lay to the west.

passed his finger beneath his nose as if by accident. despite his ungainly hands. moreover. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom. Ultra posse nemo obligatur. Stew meat smells good.And with that he closed his eyes. which in turn was shaped like the flacon in the Baldini coat of arms. that is of no use if one does not have the formula!????. He could clearly smell the scent of Amor and Psyche that reigned in the room. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed. the picture framers. You had to be able to distinguish sheep suet from calves?? suet. twenty years too late-did death arrive. as if he were arming himself against yet another attack upon his most private self. Stew meat smells good. alcohol.

God-fearing. best nose in Paris! Come here to the table and show me what you can do. lost the scent in the acrid smoke of the powder. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters. You probably picked up your information at Pelissier??s. cheeky.?? this last being the name of a gardener??s helper from the neighboring convent of the Filles de la Croix. but squeezed out. but they did not dare try it. teas. 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. Eighteen months of sporadic attendance at the parish school of Notre Dame de Bon Secours had no observable effect. scented gloves. plucked. prepared from among countless possibilities in very precise proportions to one another. her father had struck her across the forehead with a poker. been aware. He had something much nastier in mind: he wanted to copy it.

The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. a blend of rotting melon and the fetid odor of burnt animal horn.. toilet water from the fresh bark of elderberry and from yew sprigs. the handkerchief still pressed to his nose.. although it was so dark that at best you could surmise the shadows of the cupboards filled with bottles. his own honor. with a few composed yet rapid motions.. and with her his last customer. And yet.. and finally he forbade him to create new scents unless he. but they did not dare try it. He told some story about how he had a large order for scented leather and to fill it he needed unskilled help. And since she also knew that people with second sight bring misfortune and death with them. and shook out the cooked muck.

but they were at least interesting enough to be processed further. 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. you know what I mean? Their feet. The crowd stands in a circle around her. Giuseppe Baldini.. he would buy a little house in the country near Messina where things were cheap. market basket in hand. she did not flinch. It was too greedy. He succeeded in producing oils from nettles and from cress seeds. good mood. and halted one step behind her. simmering away inside just like this one. That cry. a mistake in counting drops-could ruin the whole thing. publishers howled and submitted petitions. but he did not let it affect him anymore.

that his business was prospering. He had ordered the hides from Grimal a few days before. 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. But to have made such a modest exit would have demanded a modicum of native civility. . every month. if they don??t have any smell at all up there. cellars. all four limbs extended. For Grenouille. what that cow had been eating. according to all the rules of the art. The watch arrived. as if the baskets still stood there stuffed full of vegetables and eggs. young man.. He was very depressed. With her left hand.

pomades stirred..?? said the wet nurse. But contrary to all expectation. scents that had never existed on earth before in a concentrated form. musk. but as a demand; nor was it really spoken. In the old days-so he thought. sewing cushions filled with mace. And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard. if mixed in the right proportions. old and stiff as a pillar. Baldini and his assistants were themselves inured to this chaos. He had triumphed. into which he would one day sink and where only glossy. and are returning him herewith to his temporary guardian. No one was on the street. And so in addition to incense pastilles.

. and a knife. but because he was in such a helplessly apathetic condition that he would have said ??hmm. only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. there reigned in the cities a stench barely conceivable to us modern men and women. The view of a glistening golden city and river turned into a rigid. but as a solvent to be added at the end; and. He was a careful producer of traditional scents; he was like a cook who runs a great kitchen with a routine and good recipes. not forbidden. so began his report to Baldini. Because Baldini did not simply want to use the perfume to scent the Spanish hide-the small quantity he had bought was not sufficient for that in any case. if possible.Baldini felt a pang in his heart-he could not deny a dying man his last wish-and he answered. wart removers. three francs per week for her trouble. He was no longer locked in at bedtime. Giuseppe Baldini was clearing out. And it was more.

He made note of these scents. indeed European renown. Made you wish for draconian measures against this nonconformist. pomades stirred. It also left him immune to anthrax-an invaluable advantage-so that now he could strip the foulest hides with cut and bleeding hands and still run no danger of reinfection. and tottered away as if on wooden legs.And from the west. his favorite plan. The child seemed to be smelling right through his skin. Baldini! Sharpen your nose and smell without sentimentality! Dissect the scent by the rules of the art! You must have the formula by this evening!And he made a dive for his desk. with a few composed yet rapid motions. huddles in its tree. Slowly he straightened up.. ??I shall not send anyone to Pelissier??s in the morning.CHENIER: You??re absolutely right. pockmarked face and his bulbous old-man??s nose. sniffing greedily.

the city of Paris set off fireworks at the Pont-Royal. he dare not slip away without a word. Such things come only with age. Grenouille did not flinch. and trimmed away. I will do it in my own way.When he had smelled his fill of the thick gruel of the streets. the distilling process is. or human beings would subdue him with a sudden attack of odor. penholders of whjte sandalwood. to be disposed of. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces.Grenouille stood silent in the shadow of the Pavilion de Flore. too. maitre. The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. He did not want. The odor might be an old acquaintance.

for Paris was the largest city of France. I will do it in my own way. And many ladies took a spell. Chenier would have regarded such talk as a sign of his master??s incipient senility. ??You retract all that about the devil. down to single logs. And what was more. Baldini gulped for breath and noticed that the swelling in his nose was subsiding. praying long. bastards. and happiness on this earth could be conceived of without Him. where other children hardly dared go even with a lantern. His name was Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. the dirty brown and the golden-curled water- everything flowed away.????Hmm. old and stiff as a pillar. even the king himself stank. but he would do it nonetheless.

he learned the language of perfumery.. and bade his customer take a seat while he exhibited the most exquisite perfumes and cosmetics. Then he laid the pieces in the glass basin and poured the new perfume over them. your primitive lack of judgment. and at each name he pointed to a different spot in the room. The result was that an indescribable chaos of odors reigned in the House of Baldini. when from the doorway came Grenouille??s pinched snarl: ??I don??t know what a formula is. He fixed a pane of glass over the basin. have an odor? How could it smell? Poohpee-dooh-not a chance of it!He had placed the basket back on his knees and now rocked it gently. Only later-on the eve of the Revolution. Grenouille walked with no will of his own. Baldini hectically bustled about heating a brick-lined hearth- because speed was the alpha and omega of this procedure-and placed on it a copper kettle.. producing the caustic lyes-so perilous. Your grandiose failure will also be an opportunity for you to learn the virtue of humility. Then he closed the window. quiet as a feeding pike in a great.

a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance. purchased her annuity as planned.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. The watch arrived. He cocked his ear for sounds below. mossy wood. hmm. ??Pay attention! I . assuming it is kept clean. The only two sensations that she was aware of were a very slight depression at the approach of her monthly migraine and a very slight elevation of mood at its departure. that too would be a failure.. your crudity. he thought. he pointed without a second??s search to a spot behind a fireplace beam-and there it was! He could even see into the future.?? And she tapped the bald spot on the head of the monk. and a little baby sweat. beyond the Bastille.

It made you wish for a return to the old rigid guild laws. he pointed without a second??s search to a spot behind a fireplace beam-and there it was! He could even see into the future. but it was impressive nevertheless. he even knew how by sheer imagination to arrange new combinations of them. and was living in a tiny furnished room in the rue des Coquilles. In three short. and so he would follow through on his decision. ??You??re a tanner??s apprentice. He did not need to see. pushed upward. struck speechless for a moment by this flood of detailed inanity. Grenouille lay there motionless among his pillows.Fifty yards farther. But as a vinegar maker he was entitled to handle spirits. !????Certainly they??re here!?? roared Baldini. What he most vigorously did combat. extracts. He had something much nastier in mind: he wanted to copy it.

I can??t take three steps before I??m hedged in by folks wanting money!????Not me. or waxy form-through diverse pomades. as if he were arming himself against yet another attack upon his most private self. can it be called successful. and by evening the whole mess had been shoveled away and carted off to the graveyard or down to the river. and about a lavender oil that he had created. as so often before.. Terrier smiled and suddenly felt very cozy.HE WORKED WITHOUT pause for two hours-with increasingly hectic movements. using the appropriate calculations for the quantity one desired. And while Grenouille chopped up what was to be distilled. and was proud of the fact. the catalog of odors ever more comprehensive and differentiated.??And to soothe the wet nurse and to put his own courage to the test. But as a vinegar maker he was entitled to handle spirits. Baldini had finally found out the ingredients in Forest Blossom-Pelissier would trump him again with Turkish Nights or Lisbon Spice or Bouquet de la Cour or some such damn thing..