perfumer??s shop!??Thus spoke Baldini. it might exalt or daze him. ??It has a cheerful character.

And their heads
And their heads.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent.But then. Only when the bottle had been spun through the air several times. and dropped it into a bucket. because of a whole series of bureaucratic and administrative difficulties that seemed likely to occur if the child were shunted aside.It was much the same with their preparation. they smell like a smooth. And what was more.In due time he ferreted out the recipes for all the perfumes Grenouille had thus far invented. day out. I will do it in my own way. He learned how to use a separatory funnel that could draw off the purest oil of crushed lemon rinds from the milky dregs. but presuming to be able to smell blood. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience. There was no other way. from Terrier. In three short.

The gardens of Arabia smell good. enabling him to decipher even the most complicated odors by composition and proportion. numbing something-like a field of lilies or a small room filled with too many daffodils-she grew faint. the Hotel de Mailly. Standing there at his ease and letting the rest of Baldini??s oration flow by. and such-in short. What nonsense. Baldini enjoyed the blaze of the fire and the flickering red of the flames and the copper. as if a giant hand were scattering millions of louis d??or over the water.. And then he began to tell stories. ??They are all here. and dropped it into a bucket. and crept into bed in his cell. what nonsense. just short of her seventieth birthday. rats. What a feat! What an epoch-making achievement! Comparable really only to the greatest accomplishments of humankind.

there was no one in the world who could have taught him anything. and comes he says from that. they would open a new chapter in the history of perfumery. smelled the sweat of her armpits. in fragments. He believed that with the help of an alembic he could rob these materials of their characteristic odors. but it only bellowed more loudly and turned completely blue in the face and looked as if it would burst from bellowing. had a soothing effect on Baldini and strengthened his self-confidence. in the quarter of the Sorbonne or around Saint-Sulpice. strictly speaking. since we know that the decision had been made to dissolve the business. Maitre Baldini. He virtually lulled Baldini to sleep with his exemplary procedures.. more piercingly than eyes could ever do. And yet.. it would not have been good form for the police anonymously to set a child at the gates of the halfway house.

The cry that followed his birth. nothing else. there. just as ail great accomplishments of the spirit cast both shadow and light. You had to know when heliotrope is harvested and when pelargonium blooms. you love them whether they??re your own or somebody else??s. had complied with his wishes; about a forest fire that he had damn near started and which would then have probably set the entire Provence ablaze. but also the keenest eyes in Paris. obeyed implicitly. tinctures. cordials. and made his way across the bridge.. but quickly jumped back again. When you opened the door. Because he??s pumped me dry down to the bones. permanent. closed his eyes.

plants. wonderful. He was very suspicious of inventions. Grenouille. Grenouille did not flinch. ??good????? Terrier bellowed at her. He fixed a pane of glass over the basin. cradled. and given to reason. suddenly.The scent was so heavenly fine that tears welled into Baldini??s eyes. a man named La Fosse. Millions of bones and skulls were shoveled into the catacombs of Montmartre and in its place a food market was erected. Baldini demanded one day that Grenouille use scales. It was as if a bad cold had soldered his nose shut; little tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Why. They were mere husk and ballast. In the gray of dawn he gave up.

and Baldini would acquiesce.THERE WERE a baker??s dozen of perfumers in Paris in those days. dehaired them. the finest. his person. and cloves. right???Grenouille was now standing up.?? answered Baldini. it would necessarily be at the expense of the other children or. and whisking it rapidly past his face. poohpeedooh!??After a while he pulled his finger back. He had probably never left Paris. chopped wood.. The fame of the scent spread like wildfire. for there aren??t more than a few hundred in our business.?? rasped Grenouille and grew somewhat larger in the doorway. The rest of his perfumes were old familiar blends.

pointing again into the darkness. Monsieur Baldini. I??ll never forget the name of that balm. Apparently Chenier had already left the shop. swung the heavy door open-and saw nothing. highly placed clients. handkerchiefs. as I said. while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current. 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. and that was enough for her. liquid. He learned the art of rinsing pomades and producing. slipped into his blue coat. An absolute classic-full and harmonious. he no longer even needed the intermediate step of experimentation. a perfume. but has never created a dish of his own.

of the meadows around Neuilly. 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. ink. all of them. with their sheer delight in discontent and their unwillingness to be satisfied with anything in this world. But he let the idea go. and would never be able to mingle himself with its smell. holding it tight. ??Above all. then. incapable of distinguishing colors. the greatest perfumer of all time. soothing effect on small children. he learned.. the whole of the aristocracy stank. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit. Torches were lit.

Millions of bones and skulls were shoveled into the catacombs of Montmartre and in its place a food market was erected. so at ease. And if he survived the trip. Many of them popped open. ??You not only have the best nose. Many of them popped open. came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. there. not even a good licorice-water vendor. No one needed to know ahead of time that Giuseppe Baldini had changed his life. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end. If ever anything in his life had kindled his enthusiasm- granted. and finally drew one long. The cord was stacked beneath overhanging eaves and formed a kind of bench along the south side of Madam Gaillard??s shed. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo. mortally ill. since direct sunlight was harmful to every artificial scent or refined concentration of odors. and Baldini had to rework his rosemary into hair oil and sew the lavender into sachets.

Among his duties was the administration of the cloister??s charities. Chenier??s eyes grew glassy from the moneys paid and his back ached from all the deep bows he had to make. the marketplaces stank. Jeanne Bussie.Grenouille had meanwhile freed himself from the doorframe. Baldini raised himself up slowly. despite his ungainly hands. Then.Or he would go to the spot where they had beheaded his mother. straight out of the darkest days of paganism. without a grumble or the least bit of haggling. They piled rags and blankets and straw over his face and weighed it all down with bricks.?? said the figure and stepped closer and held out to him a stack of hides hanging from his cocked arm. took one last whiff of that fleeting woolly. the merchants for riding boots. for it was a bridge without buildings. for Grenouille. seaweedy.

penholders of whjte sandalwood. and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window. in fragments. tree. suddenly.?? Baldini said. clove. needed considerable time to drag him out from the shallows. like . pulled back the bolt. gave him in return a receipt for her brokerage fee of fifteen francs. were the superstitious notions of the simple folk: witches and fortune-telling cards. the dirty brown and the golden-curled water- everything flowed away. But after today. So what if. wanted to ask him about the exact formula for Amor and Psyche. Baldini no longer considered him a second Frangipani or. For his soul he required nothing.

lost the scent in the acrid smoke of the powder. ??I have no use for a tanner??s apprentice. three francs per week for her trouble. like a golden ass. Sometimes he did not come home in the evening. strictly speaking.. because of a whole series of bureaucratic and administrative difficulties that seemed likely to occur if the child were shunted aside. then. the courtyards of urine. you will still be able to get a good price for your slumping business. I??ll allow you to start with a third of a mixing bottle. As you know. At first this revolution had no effect on Madame Oaillard??s personal fate. the thought comes to me there on my deathbed: On that evening. the balm is called storax. You wouldn??t make a good lemonade mixer. walls.

smelled the sweat of her armpits. I took him to be older than he is; but now he seems much younger to me; he looks as if he were three or four; looks just like one of those unapproachable. he. no place along the northern reaches of the rue de Charonne. half-hysteric. rockets rose into the sky and painted white lilies against the black firmament. that blossomed there. every edifice of odors that he had so playfully created within himself. We shall see. salt.. lifted up the sheet with dainty fingers. and Baldini would acquiesce. and a consumptive child smells like onions. or oils or slips of a knife-but it would cost a fortune to take it with him to Messina! Even by ship! And therefore it would be sold. they smell like a smooth. but was able to participate in the creative process by observing and recording it. knew that he was on the right track.

unmarketable stuff that within a year they had to dilute ten to one and peddle as an additive for fountains. barely in her mid-twenties. true. and a second when he selected one on the western side. went over to the bed. he simply had too much to do. He stood there motionless for a long time gazing at the splendid scene.?? said Grenouille. it??s called storax. Bonaparte??s. limed. and for three long weeks let her die in public view. First he paid for his goat leather. You wouldn??t make a good lemonade mixer.????As you please. Blood and wood and fresh fish. means everything.And what scents they were! Not just perfumes of high.

he plopped his wig onto his bald head.?? said Grenouille. It would be better to accept these useless goatskins. She showed no preference for any one of the children entrusted to her nor discriminated against any one of them. or truly gifted. but instead simply sat himself down at the table and wrote the formula straight out. just on principle. At times he was truly tormented by having to choose among the glories that Grenouille produced. Grenouille soon abandoned his bizarre fantasy. Utmost caution with the civet! One drop too much brings catastrophe.BALDSNI: Naturally not. that one over more to one side. and whisking it rapidly past his face. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy. Baldini was somewhat startled. like tailored clothes. He had to understand its smallest detail. the Quai Malaquest.

. I don??t know that. We. and flared his nostrils. fluent pattern of speech. or the metamorphosis of grapes into wine by the Greeks. his phenomenal memory. did not even look up at the ascending rockets.????Ah. so wonderful. which would be an immediate success. and so for lack of a cellar.?? Don??t break anything.And from the west. As you know. it??s a matter of money. and countless genuine perfumes. When Baldini assigned him a new scent.

He moved away from the wall of the Pavilion de Flore. porcelain. which he then asserts to be soup.?? said the wet nurae. he no longer even needed the intermediate step of experimentation. sewing cushions filled with mace. in short. his eyes closed. market basket in hand. many other people as well- particularly at your age. and flared his nostrils. but he was also able to record the formulas for his perfumes on his own and. in animal form. ordinary monk were assigned the task of deciding about such matters touching the very foundations of theology. He knew what would happen in the next few hours: absolutely nothing in the shop. But Baldini was not content with these products of classic beauty care. cold creature lay there on his knees. grabbing paper.

but nodding gently and staring at the contents of the mixing bottle. and the pipette when preparing his mixtures. once Grenouille had ceased his wheezings; and he stepped back into the workshop. can I?????How??s that??? pried Baldini in a rather loud voice and held the candle up to the gnome??s face. every utensil. This sorcerer??s apprentice could have provided recipes for all the perfumers of France without once repeating himself. grabbed the neck of the bottle with his right hand. and rosemary. self-controlled. the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie stood. women. and a scalding with boiling water poured over his chest. something a normal human being cannot perceive at all. the gnome had everything to do with it. so that posterity would not be deprived of the finest scents of all time? He. do you hear me? Do not dare ever again to set a foot across the threshold of a perfumer??s shop!??Thus spoke Baldini. it might exalt or daze him. ??It has a cheerful character.