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THE
EXECUTION
was
scheduled
for
five
in
the
afternoon
.
The
first
spectators
had
arrived
by
morning
and
secured
themselves
places
.
They
brought
chairs
and
footstools
with
them
,
pillows
,
food
,
wine
,
and
their
children
.
Around
noon
,
masses
of
country
people
streamed
in
from
all
directions
,
and
the
parade
grounds
were
soon
so
packed
that
new
arrivals
had
to
camp
along
the
road
to
Grenoble
and
on
the
terracelike
gardens
and
fields
that
rose
at
the
far
end
of
the
area
.
Vendors
were
already
doing
a
brisk
business-people
ate
,
people
drank
,
everything
hummed
and
simmered
as
at
a
country
fair
.
Soon
there
were
a
good
ten
thousand
people
gathered
,
more
than
for
the
crowning
of
the
Queen
of
the
Jasmine
,
more
than
for
the
largest
guild
procession
,
more
than
Grasse
had
ever
seen
before
.
They
stood
far
up
on
the
slopes
.
They
hung
in
the
trees
,
they
squatted
atop
walls
and
on
the
roofs
,
they
pressed
together
ten
or
twelve
to
a
window
.
Only
in
the
center
of
the
grounds
,
protected
by
the
fence
barricade
,
as
if
stamped
and
cut
from
the
dough
of
the
crowd
,
was
there
still
an
open
space
for
the
grandstand
and
the
scaffold
,
which
suddenly
appeared
very
small
,
like
a
toy
or
the
stage
of
a
puppet
theater
.
And
one
pathway
was
left
open
,
leading
from
the
place
of
execution
to
the
Porte
du
Cours
and
into
the
rue
Droite.Shortly
after
three
,
Monsieur
Papon
and
his
henchmen
appeared
.
The
applause
swept
forward
like
thunder
.
They
carried
two
wooden
beams
forming
a
St.
Andrew
's
cross
to
the
scaffold
and
set
it
at
a
good
working
height
by
propping
it
up
on
four
carpenter
's
horses
.
A
journeyman
carpenter
nailed
it
down
.
Every
move
,
every
gesture
of
the
deputy
executioners
and
the
carpenter
was
greeted
by
the
crowd
's
applause
.
And
when
Papon
stepped
forward
with
his
iron
rod
,
walked
around
the
cross
,
measuring
his
steps
,
striking
an
imaginary
blow
now
on
one
side
,
now
on
the
other
,
there
was
an
eruption
of
downright
jubilation.At
four
,
the
grandstand
began
to
fill
.
There
were
many
fine
folk
to
admire
,
rich
gentlemen
with
lackeys
and
fine
manners
,
beautiful
women
,
big
hats
,
shimmering
clothes
.
The
whole
of
the
nobility
from
both
town
and
country
was
on
hand
.
The
gentlemen
of
the
council
appeared
in
closed
rank
,
the
two
consuls
at
their
head
.
Richis
was
dressed
in
black
,
with
black
stockings
and
a
black
hat
.
Behind
the
council
the
magistrates
marched
in
,
led
by
the
presiding
judge
of
the
court
.
Last
of
all
,
in
an
open
sedan
chair
came
the
bishop
,
wearing
gleaming
purple
vestments
and
a
little
green
hat
.
Whoever
still
had
his
cap
on
doffed
it
now
to
be
sure
.
This
was
awe-inspiring
.
Then
nothing
happened
for
about
ten
minutes
.
The
lords
and
ladies
had
taken
their
places
,
the
common
folk
waited
impassively
;
no
one
was
eating
now
,
they
all
waited
.
Papon
and
his
henchmen
stood
on
the
scaffold
platform
as
if
they
too
had
been
nailed
down
.
The
sun
hung
large
and
yellow
over
the
Esterel
.
From
the
valley
of
Grasse
a
warm
wind
came
up
,
bearing
with
it
the
scent
of
orange
blossoms
.
It
was
very
warm
and
almost
implausibly
still
.
Finally
,
when
it
seemed
the
tension
could
last
no
longer
without
its
bursting
into
a
thousand-voiced
scream
,
into
a
tumult
,
a
frenzy
,
or
some
other
mob
scene
,
above
the
stillness
they
heard
the
clatter
of
horses
and
the
creaking
of
wheels.Down
the
rue
Droite
came
a
carriage
drawn
by
a
pair
of
horses
,
the
police
lieutenant
's
carriage
.
It
drove
through
the
city
gate
and
reappeared
for
all
to
see
in
the
narrow
path
leading
to
the
scaffold
.
The
police
lieutenant
had
insisted
on
this
manner
of
arrival
,
since
otherwise
he
could
not
guarantee
the
safety
of
the
convicted
man
.
It
was
certainly
not
the
customary
practice
.
The
prison
was
hardly
five
minutes
away
from
the
place
of
execution
,
and
if
a
condemned
man
,
for
whatever
reason
,
could
not
have
managed
the
short
distance
on
foot
,
then
he
would
have
traveled
it
in
an
open
donkey
cart
.
That
a
man
should
be
driven
to
his
own
execution
in
a
coach
,
with
a
driver
,
liveried
footmen
,
and
a
mounted
guard-no
one
had
ever
seen
anything
like
that.And
nevertheless
,
there
was
no
sign
of
unrest
or
displeasure
among
the
crowd-on
the
contrary
.
People
were
satisfied
that
at
least
something
was
happening
,
considered
the
idea
of
the
coach
a
clever
stroke
,
just
as
at
the
theater
people
enjoy
a
familiar
play
when
it
is
presented
in
some
surprisingly
new
fashion
.
Many
even
thought
the
grand
entrance
appropriate
.
Such
an
extraordinarily
abominable
criminal
deserved
extraordinary
treatment
.
You
could
n't
drag
him
to
the
scaffold
in
chains
like
a
common
thief
and
kill
him
.
There
would
have
been
nothing
sensational
about
that
.
But
to
lead
him
from
his
upholstered
equipage
to
the
St.
Andrew
's
cross-that
was
an
incomparably
imaginative
bit
of
cruelty.The
carriage
stopped
midway
between
the
scaffold
and
the
grandstand
.
The
footmen
jumped
down
,
opened
the
carriage
door
,
and
folded
down
the
steps
.
The
police
lieutenant
climbed
out
,
behind
him
an
officer
of
the
guard
,
and
finally
Grenouille
.
He
was
wearing
a
blue
frock
coat
,
a
white
shirt
,
white
silk
stockings
,
and
buckled
black
shoes
.
He
was
not
bound
.
No
one
led
him
by
the
arm
.
He
got
out
of
the
carriage
as
if
he
were
a
free
man.And
then
a
miracle
occurred
.
Or
something
very
like
a
miracle
,
or
at
least
something
so
incomprehensible
,
so
unprecedented
,
and
so
unbelievable
that
everyone
who
witnessed
it
would
have
called
it
a
miracle
afterwards
if
they
had
taken
the
notion
to
speak
of
it
at
all-which
was
not
the
case
,
since
afterwards
every
single
one
of
them
was
ashamed
to
have
had
any
part
in
it
whatever.What
happened
was
that
from
one
moment
to
the
next
,
the
ten
thousand
people
on
the
parade
grounds
and
on
the
slopes
surrounding
it
felt
themselves
infused
with
the
unshakable
belief
that
the
man
in
the
blue
frock
coat
who
had
just
climbed
out
of
the
carriage
could
not
possibly
be
a
murderer
.
Not
that
they
doubted
his
identity
!
The
man
standing
there
was
the
same
one
whom
they
had
seen
just
a
few
days
before
at
the
window
of
the
provost
court
on
the
church
square
and
whom
,
had
they
been
able
to
get
their
hands
on
him
,
they
would
have
lynched
with
savage
hatred
.
The
same
one
who
only
two
days
before
had
been
lawfully
condemned
on
the
basis
of
overwhelming
evidence
and
his
own
confession
.
The
same
one
whose
slaughter
at
the
hands
of
the
executioner
they
had
eagerly
awaited
only
a
few
minutes
before
.
It
was
he-no
doubt
of
it!And
yet-it
was
not
he
either
,
it
could
not
be
he
,
he
could
not
be
a
murderer
.
The
man
who
stood
at
the
scaffold
was
innocence
personified
.
All
of
them-from
the
bishop
to
the
lemonade
vendor
,
from
the
marquis
to
the
little
washerwoman
,
from
the
presiding
judge
to
the
street
urchin-knew
it
in
a
flash.Papon
knew
it
too
.
And
his
great
hands
,
still
clutching
the
iron
rod
,
trembled
.
All
at
once
his
strong
arms
were
as
weak
,
his
knees
as
wobbly
,
his
heart
as
anxious
as
a
child
's
.
He
would
not
be
able
to
lift
that
rod
,
would
never
in
his
life
have
the
strength
to
lift
it
against
this
little
,
innocent
man-oh
,
he
dreaded
the
moment
when
they
would
lead
him
forward
;
he
tottered
,
had
to
prop
himself
up
with
his
death-dealing
rod
to
keep
from
sinking
feebly
to
his
knees
,
the
great
,
the
mighty
Papon!The
ten
thousand
men
and
women
,
children
and
patriarchs
assembled
there
felt
no
different-they
grew
weak
as
young
maidens
who
have
succumbed
to
the
charms
of
a
lover
.
They
were
overcome
by
a
powerful
sense
of
goodwill
,
of
tenderness
,
of
crazy
,
childish
infatuation
,
yes
,
God
help
them
,
of
love
for
this
little
homicidal
man
,
and
they
were
unable
,
unwilling
to
do
anything
about
it
.
It
was
like
a
fit
of
weeping
you
can
not
fight
down
,
like
tears
that
have
been
held
back
too
long
and
rise
up
from
deep
within
you
,
dissolving
whatever
resists
them
,
liquefying
it
,
and
flushing
it
away
.
These
people
were
now
pure
liquid
,
their
spirits
and
minds
were
melted
;
nothing
was
left
but
an
amorphous
fluid
,
and
all
they
could
feel
was
their
hearts
floating
and
sloshing
about
within
them
,
and
they
laid
those
hearts
,
each
man
,
each
woman
,
in
the
hands
of
the
little
man
in
the
blue
frock
coat
,
for
better
or
worse
.
They
loved
him.Grenouille
had
been
standing
at
the
open
carriage
door
for
several
minutes
now
,
not
moving
at
all
.
The
footman
next
to
him
had
sunk
to
his
knees
,
and
sank
farther
still
until
achieving
the
fully
prostrate
position
customary
in
the
Orient
before
a
sultan
or
Allah
.
And
even
in
this
posture
,
he
still
quivered
and
swayed
,
trying
to
sink
even
farther
,
to
lie
flat
upon
the
earth
,
to
lie
within
it
,
under
it
.
He
wanted
to
sink
to
the
opposite
side
of
the
world
out
of
pure
subservience
.
The
officer
of
the
guard
and
the
police
lieutenant
,
doughty
fellows
both
,
whose
duty
it
was
now
to
lead
the
condemned
man
to
the
scaffold
and
hand
him
over
to
his
executioner
,
could
no
longer
manage
anything
like
a
coordinated
action
.
They
wept
and
removed
their
hats
,
put
them
back
on
,
cast
themselves
to
the
ground
,
fell
into
each
other
's
arms
,
withdrew
again
,
flapped
their
arms
absurdly
in
the
air
,
wrung
their
hands
,
twitched
and
grimaced
like
victims
of
St.
Vitus
's
dance.The
noble
personages
,
being
somewhat
farther
away
,
abandoned
themselves
to
their
emotions
with
hardly
more
discretion
.
Each
gave
free
rein
to
the
urges
of
his
or
her
heart
.
There
were
women
who
with
one
look
at
Grenouille
thrust
their
fists
into
their
laps
and
sighed
with
bliss
;
and
others
who
,
in
their
burning
desire
for
this
splendid
young
man-for
so
he
appeared
to
them-fainted
dead
away
without
further
ado
.
There
were
gentlemen
who
kept
springing
up
and
sitting
down
and
leaping
up
again
,
snorting
vigorously
and
grasping
the
hilts
of
their
swords
as
if
to
draw
them
,
and
then
when
they
did
,
each
thrusting
his
blade
back
in
so
that
it
rattled
and
clattered
;
and
others
who
cast
their
eyes
mutely
to
heaven
and
clenched
their
hands
in
prayer
;
and
there
was
Monsei-gneur
the
Bishop
,
who
,
as
if
he
had
been
taken
ill
,
slumped
forward
and
banged
his
forehead
against
his
knees
,
sending
his
little
green
hat
rolling-when
in
fact
he
was
not
ill
at
all
,
but
rather
for
the
first
time
in
his
life
basking
in
religious
rapture
,
for
a
miracle
had
occurred
before
their
very
eyes
,
the
Lord
God
had
personally
stayed
the
executioner
's
hand
by
disclosing
as
an
angel
the
very
man
who
had
for
all
the
world
appeared
a
murderer
.
Oh
,
that
such
a
thing
had
happened
,
here
in
the
eighteenth
century
.
How
great
was
the
Lord
!
And
how
small
and
petty
was
he
himself
,
who
had
spoken
his
anathema
,
without
himself
believing
it
,
merely
to
pacify
the
populace
!
Oh
,
what
presumption
!
Oh
,
what
lack
of
faith
!
And
now
the
Lord
had
performed
a
miracle
!
Oh
,
what
splendid
humiliation
,
what
sweet
abasement
,
what
grace
to
be
a
bishop
thus
chastised
by
God.Meanwhile
the
masses
on
the
other
side
of
the
barricade
were
giving
themselves
over
ever
more
shamelessly
to
the
uncanny
rush
of
emotion
that
Grenouille
's
appearance
had
unleashed
.
Those
who
at
the
start
had
merely
felt
sympathy
and
compassion
were
now
filled
with
naked
,
insatiable
desire
,
and
those
who
had
at
first
admired
and
desired
were
now
driven
to
ecstasy
.
They
all
regarded
the
man
in
the
blue
frock
coat
as
the
most
handsome
,
attractive
,
and
perfect
creature
they
could
imagine
:
to
the
nuns
he
appeared
to
be
the
Savior
in
person
,
to
the
satanists
as
the
shining
Lord
of
Darkness
,
to
those
who
were
citizens
of
the
Enlightenment
as
the
Highest
Principle
,
to
young
maidens
as
a
fairy-tale
prince
,
to
men
as
their
ideal
image
of
themselves
.
And
they
all
felt
as
if
he
had
seen
through
them
at
their
most
vulnerable
point
,
grasped
them
,
touched
their
erotic
core
.
It
was
as
if
the
man
had
ten
thousand
invisible
hands
and
had
laid
a
hand
on
the
genitals
of
the
ten
thousand
people
surrounding
him
and
fondled
them
in
just
the
way
that
each
of
them
,
whether
man
or
woman
,
desired
in
his
or
her
most
secret
fantasies.The
result
was
that
the
scheduled
execution
of
one
of
the
most
abominable
criminals
of
the
age
degenerated
into
the
largest
orgy
the
world
had
seen
since
the
second
century
before
Christ
.
Respectable
women
ripped
open
their
blouses
,
bared
their
breasts
,
cried
out
hysterically
,
threw
themselves
on
the
ground
with
skirts
hitched
high
.
The
men
's
gazes
stumbled
madly
over
this
landscape
of
straddling
flesh
;
with
quivering
fingers
they
tugged
to
pull
from
their
trousers
their
members
frozen
stiff
by
some
invisible
frost
;
they
fell
down
anywhere
with
a
groan
and
copulated
in
the
most
impossible
positions
and
combinations
:
grandfather
with
virgin
,
odd-jobber
with
lawyer
's
spouse
,
apprentice
with
nun
,
Jesuit
with
Freemason
's
wife
--
all
topsy-turvy
,
just
as
opportunity
presented
.
The
air
was
heavy
with
the
sweet
odor
of
sweating
lust
and
filled
with
loud
cries
,
grunts
,
and
moans
from
ten
thousand
human
beasts
.
It
was
infernal.Grenouille
stood
there
and
smiled
.
Or
rather
,
it
seemed
to
the
people
who
saw
him
that
he
was
smiling
,
the
most
innocent
,
loving
,
enchanting
,
and
at
the
same
time
most
seductive
smile
in
the
world
.
But
in
fact
it
was
not
a
smile
,
but
an
ugly
,
cynical
smirk
that
lay
upon
his
lips
,
reflecting
both
his
total
triumph
and
his
total
contempt
.
He
,
Jean-Baptiste
Grenouille
,
born
with
no
odor
of
his
own
on
the
most
stinking
spot
in
this
world
,
amid
garbage
,
dung
,
and
putrefaction
,
raised
without
love
,
with
no
warmth
of
a
human
soul
,
surviving
solely
on
impudence
and
the
power
of
loathing
,
small
,
hunchbacked
,
lame
,
ugly
,
shunned
,
an
abomination
within
and
without-he
had
managed
to
make
the
world
admire
him
.
To
hell
with
admire
!
Love
him
!
Desire
him
!
Idolize
him
!
He
had
performed
a
Promethean
feat
.
He
had
persevered
until
,
with
infinite
cunning
,
he
had
obtained
for
himself
that
divine
spark
,
something
laid
gratis
in
the
cradle
of
every
other
human
being
but
withheld
from
him
alone
.
And
not
merely
that
!
He
had
himself
actually
struck
that
spark
upon
himself
.
He
was
even
greater
than
Prometheus
.
He
had
created
an
aura
more
radiant
and
more
effective
than
any
human
being
had
ever
possessed
before
him
.
And
he
owed
it
to
no
one-not
to
a
father
,
nor
a
mother
,
and
least
of
all
to
a
gracious
God-but
to
himself
alone
.
He
was
in
very
truth
his
own
God
,
and
a
more
splendid
God
than
the
God
that
stank
of
incense
and
was
quartered
in
churches
.
A
flesh-and-blood
bishop
was
on
his
knees
before
him
,
whimpering
with
pleasure
.
The
rich
and
the
mighty
,
proud
ladies
and
gentlemen
,
were
fawning
in
adoration
,
while
the
common
folk
all
around-among
them
the
fathers
,
mothers
,
brothers
,
and
sisters
of
his
victims-celebrated
an
oigy
in
his
honor
and
in
his
name
.
A
nod
of
his
head
and
they
would
all
renounce
their
God
and
worship
him
,
Grenouille
the
Great.Yes
,
he
was
Grenouille
the
Great
!
Now
it
had
become
manifest
.
It
was
he
,
just
as
in
his
narcissistic
fantasies
of
old
,
but
now
in
reality
.
And
in
that
moment
he
experienced
the
greatest
triumph
of
his
life
.
And
he
was
terrified.He
was
terrified
because
he
could
not
eajoy
one
second
of
it
.
