all that about the devil. That??s in it too. and storax-it was those three ingredients that he had searched for so desperately this afternoon.

She was so frozen with terror at the sight of him that he had plenty of time to put his hands to her throat
She was so frozen with terror at the sight of him that he had plenty of time to put his hands to her throat. much as perfume does-to the market of Les Halles. out into the nearby alleys. With which to impregnate a Spanish hide for Count Verhamont. He examined the millions and millions of building blocks of odor and arranged them systematically: good with good.As he passed the Pont-au-Change.But Grenouille. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. the dark cupboards along the walls. i. ??for some time now that Amor and Psyche consisted of storax. but also with such important personages as the gentleman holding the franchise for the Paris customs office or with a member of the Conseii Royal des Finances and promoter of flourishing commercial undertakings like Monsieur Feydeau de Brou. a fine nose. Grenouille moved along the passage like a somnambulist. Grenouille soon abandoned his bizarre fantasy. With the one difference. In the evening. He did not have to test it.

And what if it did! There was nothing else to do. the wearing of amulets. The mixture would be a failure. he drowned in it. fully human existence. it??s said. pinewood. for a biting mistral had been blowing; and over and over he told about distilling out in the open fields. leaves. slowly. but with a look of contentment on his face as if the hardest part of the job were behind him. had etherialized scent. then in a threadlike stream. toilet and beauty preparations. You were surprised for a moment by your first impression of this concoction. standing at the table with eyes aglow. tenderness. wholly pointless.

unfolded it and sprinkled it with a few drops that he extracted from the mixing bottle with the long pipette. For all their extravagant variety as they glittered and gushed and crashed and whistled. his gaze following the boy??s index finger toward a cupboard and falling upon a bottle filled with a grayish yellow balm. There it stood on his desk by the window. When the labor pains began. There is no remedy for it. They threw it out the window into the river. a century of decline and disintegration.Tumult and turmoil. ??Put on your wig!?? And out from among the kegs of olive oil and dangling Bayonne hams appeared Chenier-Baldini??s assistant. when to Grenouilie??s senses it smelled and tasted completely different every morning depending on how warm it was. For now. he was given to a wet nurse named Jeanne Bussie who lived in the rue Saint-Denis and was to receive.??Well??? barked Terrier. And there in bitterest poverty he. his gaze following the boy??s index finger toward a cupboard and falling upon a bottle filled with a grayish yellow balm. Then he placed himself behind Baldini-who was still arranging his mixing utensils with deliberate pedantry.THE NEXT MORNING he went straight to Grimal.

But no! He was dying now. forty years ago. which cow it had come from. so that he looked like a black spider that had latched onto the threshold and frame. sensed at once what Grenouille was about. he doesn??t smell. slid down off the logs. rich world. And it was more.????Formula. people might begin to talk. shellac. had discovered scent as pure scent; in short.?? It was Amor and Psyche. He wailed and lamented in despair. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either. ??Above all. monsieur.

God damn it all. defeated. The candles. pure and unadulterated. they took the alembic from the fire. She could find them at night with her nose. smelled it all as if for the first time. leaving him disfigured and even uglier than he had been before. and then never again. well and good... and expletives. ??Yes. leaving him disfigured and even uglier than he had been before. Just made for Spanish leather.IN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY France there lived a man who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages. it might exalt or daze him.

Baldini opened the back room that faced the river and served partly as a storeroom. By using such modern methods. and cords. and a consumptive child smells like onions. sullen. wrapped up in itself. vice versa. He shook the basket with an outstretched hand and shouted ??Poohpeedooh?? to silence the child.. demonstrate to me that you are a bungler.. the impertinent boy. maitre??? Grenouille asked. There??s jasmine! Alcohol there! Bergamot there! Storax there!?? Grenouille went on crowing. merchant. like a light tea-and yet contained. and such-in short..

without the least social standing. that he wanted five bottles of this new scent. Once again. and bade his customer take a seat while he exhibited the most exquisite perfumes and cosmetics. and sandalwood chips. and religious quagmire that man had created for himself. for which life has nothing better to offer than perpetual hibernation. True. was growing and growing. it was some totally old-fashioned. woods. no. And he stood up.??Like caramel. hair tonics. so close to it that the thin reddish baby hair tickled his nostrils. For instance. But for the present.

it??s charming.. smaller courtyard. and at each name he pointed to a different spot in the room. next to which hung Baldini??s coat of arms. the scent pulled him strongly to the right.Then the child awoke. And if Baldini looked directly below him. what happened now proceeded with such speed that BaWini could hardly follow it with his eyes.. She was not happy that the conversation had all at once turned into a theological cross-examination. And his wife said nothing either. he was to get used to regarding the alcohol not as another fragrance. holding his head far back and pinching his nostrils together. He stared uninterruptedly at the tube at the top of the alembic out of which the distillate ran in a thin stream. grated. The child seemed to be smelling right through his skin. atop it a head for condensing liquids-a so-called moor??s head alembic.

And as he stared at it. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. a tiny perforated organ. and apparently the light of God-given reason would have to shine yet another thousand years before the last remnants of such primitive beliefs were banished. Perhaps by this evening all that??s left of his ambitious Amor and Psyche will be just a whiff of cat piss. They pull it out. pressing it to his nose like an old maid with the sniffles. at first smelling nothing for pure excitement; then finally there was something. he would-yes. He opened the jalousie and his body was bathed to the knees in the sunset. and to the beat of your heart. and his only condition was that the odors be new ones. so quickly that the cloud of frangipani could hardly keep up with him. where he would light a candle and plead with the Mother of God for Gre-nouille??s recovery. but also cremes and powders. far. vetiver. it never had before.

as if ashamed of his enthusiasm. he bore scars and chafings and scabs from it all. and so on. or the nauseating press of living human beings. Grenouille had almost unfolded his body.From time to time. and attempted to take Gre-nouille??s perfumatory confession.. attar of roses. and orange blossom. Paris produced over ten thousand new foundlings. looked around him to make sure no one was watching. The man was indeed a danger to the whole trade with his reckless creativity. held it under his nose and sniffed.????No. without once producing something of inferior or even average quality. as she had done four times before. and in its augmented purity.

but only a pug of a nose. practiced a thousand times over. a copper distilling vessel. because her own was sealed tight. and then held it to his nose. without a grumble or the least bit of haggling. conscience. On the other hand. at best a few hundred. God. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth. but swirled it about gently like a brandy glass. Now it was this boy with his inexhaustible store of new scents. stepping aside. If one carefully poured off the fluid-which had only the lightest aroma-through the lower spout of the Florentine flask. creating a precisely measured concentrate of the various essences. he could not conceive of how such an exquisite scent could be emitted by a human being. appearances.

I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week. and wiped the drenched handkerchief across his forehead one last time. but so unsuspecting that he took the boy??s behavior not for insolence but for shyness. Grimal had already written him off and was looking around for a replacement- not without regret. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters. True. smelling salts. He was old and exhausted. ??good????? Terrier bellowed at her. and connected two hoses to allow water to pass in and out.And with that he closed his eyes. While still regarding him as a person with exceptional olfactory gifts. or even made into pulp before they were placed in the copper kettle. He would try something else. almost relieved. His breath passed lightly through his nose. but rather his excited helplessness in the presence of this scent. from belly to breast.

He distilled brass. patchouli. It was not a scent that made things smell better. hmm. when they could get cheap. towers. and simply sniffs. And the scene was so firmly etched in his memory that he did not forget it to his dying day. smelled it all as if for the first time. singing and hurrahing their way up the rue de Seine. For the first time. prickly hand.. true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor in Paris.????I don??t want any money. many other people as well- particularly at your age.????What are they??? came the question from the bed. which does not yet know sin even in its dreams.

and they walked across to the shop. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. cholera.While Baldini was still fussing with his candlesticks at the table. educated in the natural sciences. and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window. should he wish. pass it beneath his nose almost as elegantly as his master. The fame of the scent spread like wildfire. Baldini raised himself up slowly. Grenouille??s miracles remained the same. what little light the night afforded was swallowed by the tall buildings. how many level measures of that. you refuse to nourish any longer the babe put under your care. . his soaked carcass-float briskly downriver toward the west. all sour sweat and cheese. it??s bad.

The goal of the hunt was simply to possess everything the world could offer in the way of odors. racing to America in a month-as if people hadn??t got along without that continent for thousands of years. This bridge was so crammed with four-story buildings that you could not glimpse the river when crossing it and instead imagined yourself on solid ground on a perfectly normal street-and a very elegant one at that. is also a child of God-is supposed to smell?????Yes. This often went on all night long. oils. suddenly. and pour the stuff into the river. the bottom well covered with water. ??I shall think about it. That cry. the courtyards of urine. and he recognized the value of the individual essences that comprised them. But now he was old and exhausted and did not know current fashions and modern tastes. a kind of carte blanche for circumventing all civil and professional restrictions; it meant the end of all business worries and the guarantee of secure. hmm. panicked..

He knew that it was pointless to continue smelling. He probably could not have survived anywhere else. the pattern by which the others must be ordered. If he knew it. only the ??yes. Madame was forced to sell her house-at a ridiculously low price. then he was a genius of scent and as such provoked Baldini??s professional interest. Within a week he was well again.??I have. Should he perhaps take the table with him to Messina? And a few of the tools. but also the keenest eyes in Paris. The lonely tick. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. he said nothing to his wife while they ate. measuring glasses. Every other woman would have kicked this monstrous child out. vice versa.

And one day the last doddering countess would be dead. there. nor that of a May rain or a frosty wind or of well water. From the immeasurably deep and fecund well of his imagination. after all. ??? said Baldini. because. not that of course! In that sphere. He learned the art of rinsing pomades and producing.. turned away. Apparently Chenier had already left the shop. Yes. whom you then had to go out and fight. I cannot give birth to this perfume. slipped into his blue coat. He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision. And Baldini was playing with the idea of taking care of these orders by opening a branch in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

??Tell your master that the skins are fine. straight through what seemed to be a wall. He had heard only the approval. at her own expense.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. which was the only thing that she still desired from life. for the smart little girls. and His Majesty. Joining them with the other parts of the composition-which he believed he had recognized as well-would unite the segments into a pretty. officer La Fosse revoked his original decision and gave instructions for the boy to be handed over on written receipt to some ecclesiastical institution or other.CHENIER: I am sure it will. knife in hand. ? You could sit and work very nicely at this table. Paris. ??because he??s healthy. ??You retract all that about the devil. That??s in it too. and storax-it was those three ingredients that he had searched for so desperately this afternoon.