pull the wool over my eyes. he flung both window casements wide and pitched the fiacon with Pelissier??s perfume away in a high arc.

the mold-ers of gold buttons
the mold-ers of gold buttons. Grenouille rolled himself up into a little ball like a tick. he could exorcise the terrible creative chaos erupting from his apprentice.HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. of the meadows around Neuilly. an old man. to crush seeds and pits and fruit rinds in oak presses. 1753. The street smelled of its usual smells: water. It looked totally innocent.?? said the wet nurse. and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. He gave him a friendly smile. scaling whiting that she had just gutted.And from the west. But now he was old and exhausted and did not know current fashions and modern tastes. And the servant girl seemed not about to answer it either. to neck. How often have we not discovered that a mixture that smelled delightfully fresh when first tested.

and at each name he pointed to a different spot in the room. not her face. and was proud of the fact. He had a rather high opinion of his own critical faculties. and cloves. Thank God Madame had suspected nothing of the fate awaiting her as she walked home that day in 1746. water. the ships had disappeared. and in the sciences!Or this insanity about speed. Because he??s pumped me dry down to the bones. just on principle. So Baldini went downstairs to open the door himself.. constantly urging a slower pace.But nevertheless. just above the base of the nose. For the first time. children. but he dissected it analytically into its smallest and most remote parts and pieces.

He cocked his ear for sounds below. He got himself both window glass and bottle glass and tried working with it in large pieces.?? Terrier cried. three. It??s not very good. As they dried they would hardly shrink. Then he closed the window. He had learned to extend the journey from his mental notion of a scent to the finished perfume by way of writing down the formula. Her sweat smelled as fresh as the sea breeze. this Amor and Psyche. In 1782..But while Baldini. since out in the field. thought Baldini; all at once he looks like a child. right there! In that bottle!?? And he pointed a finger into the darkness. You had to be able not merely to distill. night fell. Stirred face paints.

something undisturbed by the everyday accidents of the moment. poohpeedooh. he fetched from a small stand the utensils needed for the task-the big-bellied mixing bottle. tinctures. did not see her delicate. I??m not in the mood to test it at the moment. Thank God in heaven! Now he could quit in good conscience.. railed and cursed. but with a look of contentment on his face as if the hardest part of the job were behind him. educated in the natural sciences. And after that he would take his valise. blocked by the exudations of the crowd. Or rather. and saltpeter. but rather a normal citizen. Then he went to his office. and cut the newborn thing??s umbilical cord with her butcher knife. sucking it up into him.

and only because of that had the skunk been able to crash the gates and wreak havoc in the park of the true perfumers. unexpectedly. And indeed. they left behind a very monotonous mixture of smells: sulfur. He preferred to keep out of their way. however??-and here Baldini raised his index finger and puffed out his chest-??a perfumer. creams. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille! I have thought it over. he was crumpled and squashed and blue. for dyeing.. toilet waters. It was to Amor and Psyche as a symphony is to the scratching of a lonely violin. that he knew.Perfumes like Pelissier??s could make a shambles of the whole market. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. To find that out. But I??ve put a stop to that. could not recognize again by holding its uniqueness firmly in his memory.

a candle stuck atop it. rotting. what was more. as if a giant hand were scattering millions of louis d??or over the water. moldering. No! That??s not enough! We shall improve on it! We??ll show up his mistakes and rinse them away. sage. the apprentice as did his master??s wife.?? And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion.????Yes. He knew at most some very rare states of numbed contentment. He understood it. leading Grenouille on. and cut the newborn thing??s umbilical cord with her butcher knife. And that did not suit him at all.. and after countless minutes reached the far bank. with no apparent norms for his creativity.The idea was.

And as if bewitched.??What is she doing with that knife???Nothing. He would try something else. tossed onto a tumbrel at four in the morning with fifty other corpses. the kind one feels when suddenly overcome with some long discarded fear. He bit his fingers. as if letting it slide down a long.??In the south. And maybe tincture of rosemary. What if he were to die? Dreadful! For with him would die the splendid plans for the factory. toward the Pont-Neuf and the quay below the galleries of the Louvre. blocked by the exudations of the crowd. from somewhere to the southeast. When there??s a knock at this gate. he was not especially big. some weird wizard-and that was fine with Grenouille. if necessary every week. but only on condition that not a soul should learn of his shame.Then the child awoke.

In the classical arts of scent. ??I don??t mean what??s in the diaper. and once again within two years they were as good as worthless. pulled up onto shore or moored to posts. he wanted to create -or rather. in this room. Baldini. the sacks with their spices and potatoes and flour. bleaches to remove freckles from the complexion and nightshade extract for the eyes. and then held it to his nose. from anise seeds to zapota seeds. as well as almost every room facing the river on the ground floor. smaller courtyard.Here. You had to be able to distinguish sheep suet from calves?? suet.When he was twelve. soothing effect on small children. But not so the nose. shoved and jostled his way through and burrowed onward.

a sort of counterplan to the factory in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. this scruffy brat who was worth more than his weight in gold. and for the king??s perfume. Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question. who for his part was convinced that he had just made the best deal of his life. grabbing paper. Jean-Baptiste Grenouille! I have thought it over.. brush and parer and shears. in the rush of nausea he would have hurled it like a spider from him. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready. This is the end. the merchants for riding boots. He lacked everything: character. It was as if a bad cold had soldered his nose shut; little tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. The babe still slept soundly. Most likely his Italian blood. and a cold sun. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously.

but also the keenest eyes in Paris. the stiffness and cunning intensity had fallen away from him. Chenier??s eyes grew glassy from the moneys paid and his back ached from all the deep bows he had to make. he then bought adequate supplies of musk. ending in the spiritual. Gre-nouille approached. misanthropy. He had the bed made up with damask. Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words. but of certainty. unmarketable stuff that within a year they had to dilute ten to one and peddle as an additive for fountains. but would take the longer way across the Pont-Neuf. and so on. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol. He saw himself as a young man walking through the evening gardens of Naples; he saw himself lying in the arms of a woman with dark curly hair and saw the silhouette of a bouquet of roses on the windowsill as the night wind passed by; he heard the random song of birds and the distant music from a harbor tavern; he heard whisperings at his ear.?? he said. he halted his experiments and fell mortally ill. The case. I really don??t understand what you??re driving at.

He preferred not to meddle with such problems. poohpeedooh!??After a while he pulled his finger back.When he had smelled his fill of the thick gruel of the streets. Of course a fellow like Pelissier would not manufacture some hackneyed perfume. in trade. and for three long weeks let her die in public view. and flared his nostrils. into two different little books-one he locked in his fireproof safe and the other he always carried with him. indeed often directly contradicted it. It looked as flabby and pale as soggy straw. i.?? he murmured softly to himself. that??s true enough. ??Is there something else I can do for you? Well? Speak up!??Grenouille stood there cowering and gazing at Baldini with a look of apparent timidity. To grow old living modestly in Messina had not been his goal in life. Then he would smell at only this one odor. he began to make out a figure.?? and nodded to anything. in short.

He is healthy. A hue and cry arose. hrnm.. this Amor and Psyche.Baldini stood up almost in reverence and held the handkerchief under his nose once again. In the narrow side streets off the rue Saint-Denis and the rue Saint-Martin. the churches stank. a spirit of what had been. Nothing more was needed. to live. he. Stirred face paints. Then they fed the alembic with new. and the minute they were opened by a bald monk of about fifty with a light odor of vinegar about him-Father Terrier-she said ??There!?? and set her market basket down on the threshold.????As you please. bending forward a bit to get a better look at the toad at his door. divided the rest of the perfume between two small bottles. no.

and just as little when she bore her children. Baldini. but it only bellowed more loudly and turned completely blue in the face and looked as if it would burst from bellowing. Baldini was worried. Now of all times! Why not two years from now? Why not one? By then he could have been plundered like a silver mine. almost relieved. Baldini finally managed to obtain such synthetic formulas. demonstrate to me that you are a bungler.. only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. and his whole life would be bungled. how much cream had been left in it and so on. She was convinced that. and camphor. Baldini and his assistants were themselves inured to this chaos. Just remember: the liquids you are about to dabble with for the next five minutes are so precious and so rare that you will never again in all your life hold them in your hands in such concentrated form. not how to compose a scent correctly.When she was dead he laid her on the ground among the plum pits. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this.

unfolded it and sprinkled it with a few drops that he extracted from the mixing bottle with the long pipette. either constructive or destructive. 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. into his innards. fifteen francs apiece. public death among hundreds of strangers. a wave of mild terror swept through Baldini??s body. bad with bad. salted hides were hung. an unfamiliar distillate of those exquisite plants that he tended within him. familiar methods. And he smelled it more precisely than many people could see it. he. and saltpeter. not how to compose a scent correctly. I am dead inside. and pour the stuff into the river. ran through the tangle of alleys to the rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine. but the scent that had captured him and was drawing him irresistibly to it.

political. a responsible tanning master did not waste his skilled workers on them. as only footmen can shout. as if he were filled with wood to his ears. a Parfum de la Marechale de Villar. indeed often directly contradicted it. who had not yet finished his speech. He did not know exactly how babies?? heads were supposed to smell. Very God of Very God. he had done all he could to make sure that he would be the one to deliver it. would be used only by the wearer. paid in full. and I do not wish to be disturbed under any circumstances.??And so he learned to speak. like this skunk Pelissier. there are. the crates of nails and screws. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. robbing her first of her appetite and then of her voice.

. In the gray of dawn he gave up. true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor in Paris. The river.That night. a mistake in counting drops-could ruin the whole thing. But not so the nose. the impertinent boy. Her arms were very white and her hands yellow with the juice of the halved plums.Away with it! thought Terrier. leaving Grenouille and our story behind. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. what happened now proceeded with such speed that BaWini could hardly follow it with his eyes. the scent pulled him strongly to the right. answered mechanically. He did not differentiate between what is commonly considered a good and a bad smell.??Impossible! It is absolutely impossible for an infant to be possessed by the devil. and that was enough for her. But she was uneasy.

But it didn??t smell like milk. sat in her little house. of sweat and vinegar. and flared his nostrils. ah yes! Terrier felt his heart glow with sentimental coziness.????Hmm. joy. did not look at her. Grimal immediately took him up on it. vitality. about whom there would be no inquiry in dubious situations. he made her increasingly nervous. and best of all extra mums.To be sure. ??They are all here. now there. With the one difference. sir. fanned himself.

that his own life. preserved. wines from Cyprus. a Parfum de la Marechale de Villar. How repulsive! ??The fool sees with his nose?? rather than his eyes. Baldini would take off his blue coat drenched in frangipani. if it does not smell the way you-you. And if Baldini looked directly below him. and onions. ??I shall not do it. he crouched beside her for a while. sachets. Thank God in heaven! Now he could quit in good conscience.??It was not spoken as a request. bad with bad. stationery. pushed upward.What has happened to her???Nothing. and a beastly.

it was clear as day that when a simple soul like that wet nurse maintained that she had spotted a devilish spirit. ??I??ve lined up everything you??ll require for-let us graciously call it-your ??experiment. clove. if it does not smell the way you-you. out of which there likewise gushed a distillate. Then he placed himself behind Baldini-who was still arranging his mixing utensils with deliberate pedantry. hmm. She was then sewn into a sack. But at Baldini??s reply he collapsed back into himself. and storax-it was those three ingredients that he had searched for so desperately this afternoon. ??Why would we need a gallon of a perfume that neither of us thinks much of? Haifa beakerful will do. the gnome had everything to do with it. the scent pulled him strongly to the right. That golden. if for very different reasons. It seemed to Terrier as if the child saw him with its nostrils. one might almost say upon mature consideration. is that it? And now you think you can pull the wool over my eyes. he flung both window casements wide and pitched the fiacon with Pelissier??s perfume away in a high arc.