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But
he
feared
that
he
still
smelled
too
much
of
violets
,
and
so
he
screamed
for
his
servants
yet
again
and
ordered
that
all
the
violet
perfume
be
removed
from
the
house
,
the
whole
mansion
aired
,
his
clothes
disinfected
in
the
vital-air
ventilator
,
and
that
Grenouille
at
once
be
conveyed
in
his
sedan
chair
to
the
best
perfumer
in
the
city
.
And
of
course
this
was
precisely
what
Grenouille
had
intended
his
seizure
to
accomplish.The
science
of
perfumery
was
an
old
tradition
in
Montpellier
,
and
although
in
more
recent
times
it
had
lost
ground
to
its
competitor
,
the
town
of
Grasse
,
there
were
still
several
good
perfumers
and
glovers
residing
in
the
city
.
The
most
prestigious
of
them
,
a
certain
Runel-well
aware
of
the
trade
he
enjoyed
with
the
house
of
the
marquis
de
La
Taillade-Espinasse
as
its
purveyor
of
soaps
,
oils
,
and
scents
--
declared
himself
prepared
to
take
the
unusual
step
of
surrendering
his
studio
for
an
hour
to
the
strange
journeyman
perfumer
from
Paris
who
had
been
conveyed
thither
in
a
sedan
chair
.
The
latter
refused
all
instructions
,
did
not
even
want
to
know
where
things
were
;
he
knew
his
way
around
,
he
said
,
would
manage
well
enough
.
And
he
locked
himself
in
the
laboratory
and
stayed
there
a
good
hour
,
while
Runel
joined
the
marquis
's
majordomo
for
a
couple
of
glasses
of
wine
in
a
tavern
,
where
he
was
to
learn
why
his
violet
cologne
was
no
longer
a
scent
worth
smelling.Runel
's
laboratory
and
shop
fell
far
short
of
being
so
grandly
equipped
as
Baldini
's
perfume
shop
in
Paris
had
been
in
its
day
.
An
average
perfumer
would
not
have
made
any
great
progress
with
its
few
floral
oils
,
colognes
,
and
spices
.
Grenouille
,
however
,
recognized
with
the
first
inhaled
sniff
that
the
ingredients
on
hand
would
be
quite
sufficient
for
his
purposes
.
He
did
not
want
to
create
a
great
scent
;
he
did
not
want
to
create
a
prestigious
cologne
such
as
he
had
once
made
for
Baldini
,
one
that
stood
out
amid
a
sea
of
mediocrity
and
tamed
the
masses
.
Nor
was
even
the
simple
orange
blossom
scent
that
he
had
promised
the
marquis
his
true
goal
.
The
customary
essences
of
neroli
,
eucalyptus
,
and
cypress
were
meant
only
as
a
cover
for
the
actual
scent
that
he
intended
to
produce
:
that
was
the
scent
of
humanness
.
He
wanted
to
acquire
the
human-being
odor-if
only
in
the
form
of
an
inferior
temporary
surrogate-that
he
did
not
possess
himself
.
True
,
the
odor
of
human
being
did
not
exist
,
any
more
than
the
human
countenance
.
Every
human
being
smelled
different
,
no
one
knew
that
better
than
Grenouille
,
who
recognized
thousands
upon
thousands
of
individual
odors
and
could
sniff
out
the
difference
of
each
human
being
from
birth
on
.
And
yet-there
was
a
basic
perfumatory
theme
to
the
odor
of
humanity
,
a
rather
simple
one
,
by
the
way
:
a
sweaty-oily
,
sour-cheesy
,
quite
richly
repulsive
basic
theme
that
clung
to
all
humans
equally
and
above
which
each
individual
's
aura
hovered
only
as
a
small
cloud
of
more
refined
particularity.That
aura
,
however
,
the
highly
complex
,
unmistakable
code
of
a
personal
odor
,
was
not
perceptible
for
most
people
in
any
case
.
Most
people
did
not
know
that
they
even
had
such
a
thing
,
and
moreover
did
everything
they
could
to
disguise
it
under
clothes
or
fashionable
artificial
odors
.
Only
that
basic
odor
,
the
primitive
human
effluvium
,
was
truly
familiar
to
them
;
they
lived
exclusively
within
it
and
it
made
them
feel
secure
;
and
only
a
person
who
gave
off
that
standard
vile
vapor
was
ever
considered
one
of
their
own.It
was
a
strange
perfume
that
Grenouille
created
that
day
.
There
had
never
before
been
a
stranger
one
on
earth
.
It
did
not
smell
like
a
scent
,
but
like
a
human
being
who
gives
off
a
scent
.
If
one
had
smelled
this
perfume
in
a
dark
room
,
one
would
have
thought
a
second
person
was
standing
there
.
And
if
a
human
being
,
who
smelled
like
a
human
being
,
had
applied
it
,
that
person
would
have
seemed
to
have
the
smell
of
two
people
,
or
,
worse
still
,
to
be
a
monstrous
double
creature
,
like
some
figure
that
you
can
no
longer
clearly
pinpoint
because
it
looks
blurred
and
out
of
focus
,
like
something
at
the
bottom
of
a
lake
beneath
the
shiver
of
waves.And
to
imitate
this
human
odor-quite
unsatisfactorily
,
as
he
himself
knew
,
but
cleverly
enough
to
deceive
others-Grenouille
gathered
up
the
most
striking
ingredients
in
Runel
's
workshop.There
was
a
little
pile
of
cat
shit
behind
the
threshold
of
the
door
leading
out
to
the
courtyard
,
still
rather
fresh
.
He
took
a
half
teaspoon
of
it
and
placed
it
together
with
several
drops
of
vinegar
and
finely
ground
salt
in
a
mixing
bottle
.
Under
the
worktable
he
found
a
thumbnail-sized
piece
of
cheese
,
apparently
from
one
of
Runel
's
lunches
.
It
was
already
quite
old
,
had
begun
to
decompose
,
and
gave
off
a
biting
,
pungent
odor
.
From
the
lid
of
a
sardine
tub
that
stood
at
the
back
of
the
shop
,
he
scratched
off
a
rancid
,
fishy
something-or-other
,
mixed
it
with
rotten
egg
and
castoreum
,
ammonia
,
nutmeg
,
horn
shavings
,
and
singed
pork
rind
,
finely
ground
.
To
this
he
added
a
relatively
large
amount
of
civet
,
mixed
these
ghastly
ingredients
with
alcohol
,
let
it
digest
,
and
filtered
it
into
a
second
bottle
.
The
bilge
smelled
revolting
.
Its
stink
was
putrid
,
like
a
sewer
,
and
if
you
fanned
its
vapor
just
once
to
mix
it
with
fresh
air
,
it
was
as
if
you
were
standing
in
Paris
on
a
hot
summer
day
,
at
the
comer
of
the
rue
aux
Fers
and
the
rue
de
la
Lingerie
,
where
the
odors
from
Les
Halles
,
the
Cimetiere
des
Innocents
,
and
the
overcrowded
tenements
converged.On
top
of
this
disgusting
base
,
which
smelled
more
like
a
cadaver
than
a
human
being
,
Grenouille
spread
a
layer
of
fresh
,
oily
scents
:
peppermint
,
lavender
,
turpentine
,
lime
,
eucalyptus
,
which
he
then
simultaneously
disguised
and
tamed
with
the
pleasant
bouquet
of
fine
floral
oils-geranium
,
rose
,
orange
blossom
,
and
jasmine
.
After
a
second
dilution
with
alcohol
and
a
splash
of
vinegar
there
was
nothing
left
of
the
disgusting
basic
odor
on
which
the
mixture
was
built
.
The
latent
stench
lay
lost
and
unnoticeable
under
the
fresh
ingredients
;
the
nauseous
part
,
pampered
by
the
scent
of
flowers
,
had
become
almost
interesting
;
and
,
strangely
enough
,
there
was
no
putrefaction
left
to
smell
,
not
the
least
.
On
the
contrary
,
the
perfume
seemed
to
exhale
the
robust
,
vivacious
scent
of
life.Grenouille
filled
two
flacons
with
it
,
stoppered
them
,
and
stuck
them
in
his
pocket
Then
he
washed
the
bottles
,
mortars
,
funnels
,
and
spoons
carefully
with
water
,
rubbed
them
down
with
bitter-almond
oil
to
remove
all
traces
of
odor
,
and
picked
up
a
second
mixing
bottle
.
In
it
he
quickly
composed
another
perfume
,
a
sort
of
copy
of
the
first
,
likewise
consisting
of
fresh
and
floral
elements
,
but
containing
nothing
of
the
witches
'
brew
as
a
base
,
but
rather
a
totally
conventional
one
of
musk
,
ambergris
,
a
tiny
bit
of
civet
,
and
cedarwood
oil
.
By
itself
it
smelled
totally
different
from
the
first-flatter
,
more
innocent
,
detoxified-for
it
lacked
the
components
of
the
imitation
human
odor
.
But
once
a
normal
human
being
applied
it
and
married
it
to
his
own
odor
,
it
could
no
longer
be
distinguished
from
the
one
that
Grenouille
had
created
exclusively
for
himself.After
he
had
poured
the
second
perfume
into
flacons
,
he
stripped
and
sprinkled
his
clothes
with
the
first
.
Then
he
dabbed
himself
in
the
armpits
,
between
the
toes
,
on
the
genitals
,
on
the
chest
,
neck
,
ears
,
and
hair
,
put
his
clothes
back
on
,
and
left
the
laboratory
.
AS
HE
CAME
OUT
onto
the
street
,
he
was
suddenly
afraid
,
for
he
knew
that
for
the
first
time
in
his
life
he
was
giving
off
a
human
odor
.
He
found
that
he
stank
,
stank
quite
disgustingly
.
And
because
he
could
not
imagine
that
other
people
would
not
also
perceive
his
odor
as
a
stench
,
he
did
not
dare
go
directly
into
the
tavern
where
Runel
and
the
marquis
's
majordomo
were
waiting
for
him
.
It
seemed
less
risky
to
him
first
to
try
out
his
new
aura
in
an
anonymous
environment.He
slipped
down
toward
the
river
through
the
darkest
and
narrowest
alleyways
,
where
tanners
and
dyers
had
their
workshops
and
carried
on
their
stinking
business
.
When
someone
approached
,
or
if
he
passed
an
entryway
where
children
were
playing
or
women
were
sitting
,
he
forced
himself
to
walk
more
slowly
,
bringing
his
odor
with
him
in
a
large
,
compact
cloud.From
his
youth
on
,
he
had
been
accustomed
to
people
's
passing
him
and
taking
no
notice
of
him
whatever
,
not
out
of
contempt-as
he
had
once
believed-but
because
they
were
quite
unaware
of
his
existence
.
There
was
no
space
surrounding
him
,
no
waves
broke
from
him
into
the
atmosphere
,
as
with
other
people
;
he
had
no
shadow
,
so
to
speak
,
to
cast
across
another
's
face
.
Only
if
he
ran
right
into
someone
in
a
crowd
or
in
a
street-corner
collision
would
there
be
a
brief
moment
of
discernment
;
and
the
person
encountered
would
bounce
off
and
stare
at
him
for
a
few
seconds
as
if
gazing
at
a
creature
that
ought
not
even
to
exist
,
a
creature
that
,
although
undeniably
there
,
in
some
way
or
other
was
not
present-and
would
take
to
his
heels
and
have
forgotten
him
,
Grenouille
,
a
moment
later
...
But
now
,
in
the
streets
of
Montpellier
,
Grenouille
sensed
and
saw
with
his
own
eyes-and
each
time
he
saw
it
anew
,
a
powerful
sense
of
pride
washed
over
him-that
he
exerted
an
effect
on
people
.
As
he
passed
a
woman
who
stood
bent
down
over
the
edge
of
a
well
,
he
noticed
how
she
raised
her
head
for
a
moment
to
see
who
was
there
,
and
then
,
apparently
satisfied
,
turned
back
to
her
bucket
.
A
man
who
was
standing
with
his
back
to
him
turned
around
and
gazed
after
him
with
curiosity
for
a
good
while
.
The
children
he
met
scooted
to
one
side-not
out
of
fear
,
but
to
make
room
for
him
;
and
even
when
they
came
hurtling
out
of
a
side
doorway
right
toward
him
,
they
were
not
frightened
,
but
simply
slipped
naturally
on
past
him
as
if
they
had
anticipated
an
approaching
person.Several
such
meetings
taught
him
to
assess
more
precisely
the
power
and
effect
of
his
new
aura
,
and
he
grew
more
self-assured
and
cocky
.
He
moved
more
rapidly
toward
people
,
passed
by
them
more
closely
,
even
stretched
out
one
arm
a
little
,
grazing
the
arm
of
a
passerby
as
if
by
chance
.
Once
he
jostled
a
man
as
if
by
accident
while
moving
to
pass
around
him
.
He
stopped
,
apologized
,
and
the
man-who
only
yesterday
would
have
reacted
to
Grenouille
's
sudden
appearance
as
if
to
a
thunderbolt-behaved
as
though
nothing
had
happened
,
accepted
the
apology
,
even
smiled
briefly
,
and
clapped
Grenouille
on
the
shoulder.He
left
the
back
streets
and
entered
the
square
before
the
cathedral
of
Saint-Pierre
.
The
bells
were
ringing
.
There
was
a
crush
of
people
at
both
sides
of
the
portal
.
A
wedding
had
just
ended
.
People
wanted
to
see
the
bride
.
Grenouille
hurried
over
and
mingled
with
the
crowd
.
He
shoved
,
bored
his
way
in
to
where
he
wanted
to
be
,
where
people
were
packed
together
most
densely
,
where
he
could
be
cheek
by
jowl
with
them
,
rubbing
his
own
scent
directly
under
their
noses
.
And
in
the
thick
of
the
crush
,
he
spread
his
arms
,
spread
his
legs
,
and
opened
his
collar
so
that
the
odor
could
flow
unimpeded
from
his
body
...
and
his
joy
was
boundless
when
he
noticed
that
the
others
noticed
nothing
,
nothing
whatever
,
that
all
these
men
,
women
,
and
children
standing
pressed
about
him
could
be
so
easily
duped
,
that
they
could
inhale
his
concoction
of
cat
shit
,
cheese
,
and
vinegar
as
an
odor
just
like
their
own
and
accept
him
,
Grenouille
the
cuckoo
's
egg
,
in
their
midst
as
a
human
being
among
human
beings.He
felt
a
child
against
his
knee
,
a
little
girl
standing
wedged
in
among
the
adults
.
He
lifted
her
up
with
hypocritical
concern
and
held
her
with
one
arm
so
that
she
could
see
better
.
The
mother
not
only
tolerated
this
,
she
thanked
him
as
well
,
and
the
kid
yowled
with
delight
.
Grenouille
stood
there
like
that
in
the
bosom
of
the
crowd
for
a
good
quarter
of
an
hour
,
a
strange
child
pressed
sanctimoniously
to
his
chest
.
And
while
the
wedding
party
passed
by-to
the
accompaniment
of
the
booming
bells
and
the
cheers
of
the
masses
and
a
pelting
shower
of
coins-Grenouille
broke
out
in
a
different
jubilation
,
a
black
jubilation
,
a
wicked
feeling
of
triumph
that
set
him
quivering
and
excited
him
like
an
attack
of
lechery
,
and
he
had
trouble
keeping
from
spurting
it
like
venom
and
spleen
over
all
these
people
and
screaming
exultantly
in
their
faces
:
that
he
was
not
afraid
of
them
;
that
he
hardly
hated
them
anymore
;
but
that
his
contempt
for
them
was
profound
and
total
,
because
they
were
so
dumb
they
stank
;
because
they
could
be
deceived
by
him
,
let
themselves
be
deceived
;
because
they
were
nothing
,
and
he
was
everything
!
And
as
if
to
mock
them
,
he
pressed
the
child
still
closer
to
him
,
bursting
out
and
shouting
in
chorus
with
the
others
:
"
Hurrah
for
the
bride
!
Long
live
the
bride
!
Long
live
the
glorious
couple
!
"
When
the
wedding
party
had
departed
and
the
crowd
had
begun
to
disperse
,
he
gave
the
child
back
to
its
mother
and
went
into
the
church-to
recover
from
his
excitement
and
rest
a
little
.
Inside
the
cathedral
the
air
was
still
filled
with
incense
billowing
up
in
cold
clouds
from
two
thuribles
at
each
side
of
the
altar
and
lying
in
a
suffocating
layer
above
the
lighter
odors
of
the
people
who
had
just
been
sitting
there
.
Grenouille
hunched
down
on
a
bench
behind
the
choir.All
at
once
great
contentment
came
over
him
.
Not
a
drunken
one
,
as
in
the
days
when
he
had
celebrated
his
lonely
orgies
in
the
bowels
of
the
mountain
,
but
a
very
cold
and
sober
contentment
,
as
befits
awareness
of
one
's
own
power
.
He
now
knew
what
he
was
capable
of
.
Thanks
to
his
own
genius
,
with
a
minimum
of
contrivance
he
had
imitated
the
odor
of
human
beings
and
at
one
stroke
had
matched
it
so
well
that
even
a
child
had
been
deceived
.
He
now
knew
that
he
could
do
much
more
.
He
knew
that
he
could
improve
on
this
scent
.
He
would
be
able
to
create
a
scent
that
was
not
merely
human
,
but
superhuman
,
an
angel
's
scent
,
so
indescribably
good
and
vital
that
whoever
smelled
it
would
be
enchanted
and
with
his
whole
heart
would
have
to
love
him
,
Grenouille
,
the
bearer
of
that
scent.Yes
,
that
was
what
he
wanted-they
would
love
him
as
they
stood
under
the
spell
of
his
scent
,
not
just
accept
him
as
one
of
them
,
but
love
him
to
the
point
of
insanity
,
of
self-abandonment
,
they
would
quiver
with
delight
,
scream
,
weep
for
bliss
,
they
would
sink
to
their
knees
just
as
if
under
God
's
cold
incense
,
merely
to
be
able
to
smell
him
,
Grenouille
!
He
would
be
the
omnipotent
god
of
scent
,
just
as
he
had
been
in
his
fantasies
,
but
this
time
in
the
real
world
and
over
real
people
.
And
he
knew
that
all
this
was
within
his
power
.
For
people
could
close
their
eyes
to
greatness
,
to
horrors
,
to
beauty
,
and
their
ears
to
melodies
or
deceiving
words
.
But
they
could
not
escape
scent
.
For
scent
was
a
brother
of
breath
.
Together
with
breath
it
entered
human
beings
,
who
could
not
defend
themselves
against
it
,
not
if
they
wanted
to
live
