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"
CHENIER
!
"
BALDINI
cried
from
behind
the
counter
where
for
hours
he
had
stood
rigid
as
a
pillar
,
staring
at
the
door
.
"
Put
on
your
wig
!
"
And
out
from
among
the
kegs
of
olive
oil
and
dangling
Bayonne
hams
appeared
Chenier-Baldini
's
assistant
,
somewhat
younger
than
the
latter
,
but
already
an
old
man
himself-and
moved
toward
the
elegant
front
of
the
shop
.
He
pulled
his
wig
from
his
coat
pocket
and
shoved
it
on
his
head
.
"
Are
you
going
out
,
Monsieur
Baldini
?
""
No
,
"
said
Baldini
.
"
I
shall
retire
to
my
study
for
a
few
hours
,
and
I
do
not
wish
to
be
disturbed
under
any
circumstances
.
""
Ah
,
I
see
!
You
are
creating
a
new
perfume
.
"
BALDSNI
:
Correct
.
With
which
to
impregnate
a
Spanish
hide
for
Count
Verhamont
.
He
wants
something
like
...
like
...
I
think
he
said
it
's
called
Amor
and
Psyche
,
and
comes
he
says
from
that
...
that
bungler
in
the
rue
Saint-Andre-des-Arts
,
that
...
that
...
CHENIER
:
Pelissier.BALDINI
:
Yes
.
Indeed
.
That
's
the
bungler
's
name
.
Amor
and
Psyche
,
by
Pelissier.-Do
you
know
it
?
"
CHENIER
:
Yes
,
yes
.
I
do
indeed
.
You
can
smell
it
everywhere
these
days
.
Smell
it
on
every
street
corner
.
But
if
you
ask
me-nothing
special
!
It
most
certainly
ca
n't
be
compared
in
any
way
with
what
you
will
create
,
Monsieur
Baldini.BALDSNI
:
Naturally
not.CHENIER
:
It
's
a
terribly
common
scent
,
this
Amor
and
Psyche.BALDINI
:
Vulgar?CHENIER
:
Totally
vulgar
,
like
everything
from
Pelissier
.
I
believe
it
contains
lime
oil.BALDINI
:
Really
?
What
else?CHENIER
:
Essence
of
orange
blossom
perhaps
.
And
maybe
tincture
of
rosemary
.
But
I
ca
n't
say
for
sure
.
BALDINI
:
It
's
of
no
consequence
at
all
to
me
in
any
case.CHENIER
:
Naturally
not.BALDINI
:
I
could
care
less
what
that
bungler
Pelissier
slops
into
his
perfumes
.
I
certainly
would
not
take
my
inspiration
from
him
,
I
assure
you.CHENIER
:
You
're
absolutely
right
,
monsieur.BALDINI
:
As
you
know
,
I
take
my
inspiration
from
no
one
.
As
you
know
,
!
create
my
own
perfumes.CHENIER
:
I
do
know
,
monsieur.BALDINI
:
I
alone
give
birth
to
them.CHENIER
:
I
know.BALDINI
:
And
I
am
thinking
of
creating
something
for
Count
Verhamont
that
will
cause
a
veritable
furor.CHENIER
:
I
am
sure
it
will
,
Monsieur
Baldini.BALDINI
:
Take
charge
of
the
shop
.
I
need
peace
and
quiet
.
Do
n't
let
anyone
near
me
,
Chenier.And
with
that
,
he
shuffled
away-not
at
all
like
a
statue
,
but
as
befitted
his
age
,
bent
over
,
but
so
far
that
he
looked
almost
as
if
he
had
been
beaten-and
slowly
climbed
the
stairs
to
his
study
on
the
second
floor.Chenier
took
his
place
behind
the
counter
,
positioning
himself
exactly
as
his
master
had
stood
before
,
and
stared
fixedly
at
the
door
.
He
knew
what
would
happen
in
the
next
few
hours
:
absolutely
nothing
in
the
shop
,
and
up
in
Baldini
's
study
,
the
usual
catastrophe
.
Baldini
would
take
off
his
blue
coat
drenched
in
frangipani
,
sit
down
at
his
desk
,
and
wait
for
inspiration
.
The
inspiration
would
not
come
.
He
would
then
hurry
over
to
the
cupboard
with
its
hundreds
of
vials
and
start
mixing
them
haphazardly
.
The
mixture
would
be
a
failure
.
He
would
curse
,
fling
open
the
window
,
and
pour
the
stuff
into
the
river
.
He
would
try
something
else
,
that
too
would
be
a
failure
,
he
would
then
rave
and
rant
and
throw
a
howling
fit
there
in
the
stifling
,
odor-filled
room
.
At
about
seven
o'clock
he
would
come
back
down
,
miserable
,
trembling
and
whining
,
and
say
:
"
Chenier
,
I
've
lost
my
nose
,
I
can
not
give
birth
to
this
perfume
,
I
can
not
deliver
the
Spanish
hide
to
the
count
,
all
is
lost
,
I
am
dead
inside
,
I
want
to
die
,
Chenier
,
please
,
help
me
die
!
"
And
Chenier
would
suggest
that
someone
be
sent
to
Pelissier
's
for
a
bottle
of
Amor
and
Psyche
,
and
Baldini
would
acquiesce
,
but
only
on
condition
that
not
a
soul
should
learn
of
his
shame
.
Chenier
would
swear
himself
to
silence
,
and
tonight
they
would
perfume
Count
Verhamont
's
leather
with
the
other
man
's
product
.
That
was
how
it
would
be
,
no
doubt
of
it
,
and
Chenier
only
wished
that
the
whole
circus
were
already
over
.
Baldini
was
no
longer
a
great
perfumer
.
At
one
time
,
to
be
sure
,
in
his
youth
,
thirty
,
forty
years
ago
,
he
had
composed
Rose
of
the
South
and
Baldini
's
Gallant
Bouquet
,
the
two
truly
great
perfumes
to
which
he
owed
his
fortune
.
But
now
he
was
old
and
exhausted
and
did
not
know
current
fashions
and
modern
tastes
,
and
whenever
he
did
manage
to
concoct
a
new
perfume
of
his
own
,
it
was
some
totally
old-fashioned
,
unmarketable
stuff
that
within
a
year
they
had
to
dilute
ten
to
one
and
peddle
as
an
additive
for
fountains
What
a
shame
,
Chenier
thought
as
he
checked
the
sit
of
his
wig
in
the
mirror-a
shame
about
old
Baldini
;
a
shame
about
his
beautiful
shop
,
because
he
's
sure
to
ruin
it
;
and
a
shame
about
me
,
because
by
the
time
he
has
ruined
it
,
I
'll
be
too
old
to
take
it
over
...
GIUSEPPE
BALDINI
had
indeed
taken
off
his
redolent
coat
,
but
only
out
of
long-standing
habit
.
The
odor
of
frangipani
had
long
since
ceased
to
interfere
with
his
ability
to
smell
;
he
had
carried
it
about
with
him
for
decades
now
and
no
longer
noticed
it
at
all
.
And
although
he
had
closed
the
doors
to
his
study
and
asked
for
peace
and
quiet
,
he
had
not
sat
down
at
his
desk
to
ponder
and
wait
for
inspiration
,
for
he
knew
far
better
than
Chenier
that
inspiration
would
not
strike-after
all
,
it
never
had
before
.
He
was
old
and
exhausted
,
that
much
was
true
,
and
was
no
longer
a
great
perfumer
,
but
he
knew
that
he
had
never
in
his
life
been
one
.
He
had
inherited
Rose
of
the
South
from
his
father
,
and
the
formula
for
Baidini
's
Gallant
Bouquet
had
been
bought
from
a
traveling
Genoese
spice
salesman
.
The
rest
of
his
perfumes
were
old
familiar
blends
.
He
had
never
invented
anything
.
He
was
not
an
inventor
.
He
was
a
careful
producer
of
traditional
scents
;
he
was
like
a
cook
who
runs
a
great
kitchen
with
a
routine
and
good
recipes
,
but
has
never
created
a
dish
of
his
own
.
He
staged
this
whole
hocus-pocus
with
a
study
and
experiments
and
inspiration
and
hush-hush
secrecy
only
because
that
was
part
of
the
professional
image
of
a
perfumer
and
glover
.
A
perfumer
was
fifty
percent
alchemist
who
created
miracles-that
's
what
people
wanted
.
Fine
!
That
his
art
was
a
craft
like
any
other
,
only
he
knew
,
and
was
proud
of
the
fact
.
He
did
n't
want
to
be
an
inventor
.
He
was
very
suspicious
of
inventions
,
for
they
always
meant
that
some
rule
would
have
to
be
broken
.
And
he
had
no
intention
of
inventing
some
new
perfume
for
Count
Verhamont
.
Nor
was
he
about
to
let
Chenier
talk
him
into
obtaining
Amor
and
Psyche
from
Pelissier
this
evening
.
He
already
had
some
.
There
it
stood
on
his
desk
by
the
window
,
in
a
little
glass
flacon
with
a
cut-glass
stopper
.
He
had
bought
it
a
couple
of
days
before
.
Naturally
not
in
person
.
He
could
n't
go
to
Pelissier
and
buy
perfume
in
person
!
But
through
a
go-between
,
who
had
used
yet
another
go-between
...
Caution
was
necessary
.
Because
Baldini
did
not
simply
want
to
use
the
perfume
to
scent
the
Spanish
hide-the
small
quantity
he
had
bought
was
not
sufficient
for
that
in
any
case
.
He
had
something
much
nastier
in
mind
:
he
wanted
to
copy
it.That
was
,
moreover
,
not
forbidden
.
It
was
merely
highly
improper
.
To
create
a
clandestine
imitation
of
a
competitor
's
perfume
and
sell
it
under
one
's
own
name
was
terribly
improper
.
But
more
improper
still
was
to
get
caught
at
it
,
and
that
was
why
Chenier
must
know
nothing
about
it
,
for
Chenier
was
a
gossip.How
awful
,
that
an
honest
man
should
feel
compelled
to
travel
such
crooked
paths
!
How
awful
,
that
the
most
precious
thing
a
man
possesses
,
his
own
honor
,
should
be
sullied
by
such
shabby
dealings
!
But
what
was
he
to
do
?
Count
Verhamont
was
,
after
all
,
a
customer
he
dared
not
lose
.
He
had
hardly
a
single
customer
left
now
.
He
would
soon
have
to
start
chasing
after
customers
as
he
had
in
his
twenties
at
the
start
of
his
career
,
when
he
had
wandered
the
streets
with
a
boxful
of
wares
dangling
at
his
belly
.
God
knew
,
he
,
Giuseppe
Baldini-owner
of
the
largest
perfume
establishment
in
Paris
,
with
the
best
possible
address-only
managed
to
stay
out
of
the
red
by
making
house
calls
,
valise
in
hand
.
And
that
did
not
suit
him
at
all
,
for
he
was
well
over
sixty
and
hated
waiting
in
cold
antechambers
and
parading
eau
des
millefleurs
and
four
thieves
'
vinegar
before
old
marquises
or
foisting
a
migraine
salve
off
on
them
.
Besides
which
,
there
was
such
disgusting
competition
in
those
antechambers
.
There
was
that
upstart
Brouet
from
the
rue
Dauphine
,
who
claimed
to
have
the
greatest
line
of
pomades
in
Europe
;
or
Calteau
from
the
rue
Mauconseil
,
who
had
managed
to
become
purveyor
to
the
household
of
the
duchesse
d'Artois
;
or
this
totally
unpredictable
Antoine
Pelissier
from
the
rue
Saint-Andre-des-Arts
,
who
every
season
launched
a
new
scent
that
the
whole
world
went
crazy
over.Perfumes
like
Pelissier
's
could
make
a
shambles
of
the
whole
market
.
If
the
rage
one
year
was
Hungary
water
and
Baldini
had
accordingly
stocked
up
on
lavender
,
bergamot
,
and
rosemary
to
cover
the
demand-here
came
Pelissier
with
his
Air
de
Muse
,
an
ultra-heavy
musk
scent
.
Suddenly
everyone
had
to
reek
like
an
animal
,
and
Baldini
had
to
rework
his
rosemary
into
hair
oil
and
sew
the
lavender
into
sachets
.
If
,
however
,
he
then
bought
adequate
supplies
of
musk
,
civet
,
and
castor
for
the
next
year
,
Pelissier
would
take
a
notion
to
create
a
perfume
called
Forest
Blossom
,
which
would
be
an
immediate
success
.
And
when
,
after
long
nights
of
experiment
or
costly
bribes
,
Baldini
had
finally
found
out
the
ingredients
in
Forest
Blossom-Pelissier
would
trump
him
again
with
Turkish
Nights
or
Lisbon
Spice
or
Bouquet
de
la
Cour
or
some
such
damn
thing
.
The
man
was
indeed
a
danger
to
the
whole
trade
with
his
reckless
creativity
.
It
made
you
wish
for
a
return
to
the
old
rigid
guild
laws
.
Made
you
wish
for
draconian
measures
against
this
nonconformist
,
against
this
inflationist
of
scent
.
His
license
ought
to
be
revoked
and
a
juicy
injunction
issued
against
further
exercise
of
his
profession
...
and
,
just
on
principle
,
the
fellow
ought
to
be
taught
a
lesson
!
Because
this
Pelissier
was
n't
even
a
trained
perfumer
and
glover
.
His
father
had
been
nothing
but
a
vinegar
maker
,
and
Pelissier
was
a
vinegar
maker
too
,
nothing
else
.
But
as
a
vinegar
maker
he
was
entitled
to
handle
spirits
,
and
only
because
of
that
had
the
skunk
been
able
to
crash
the
gates
and
wreak
havoc
in
the
park
of
the
true
perfumers
.
What
did
people
need
with
a
new
perfume
every
season
?
Was
that
necessary
?
The
public
had
been
very
content
before
with
violet
cologne
and
simple
floral
bouquets
that
you
changed
a
soupcon
every
ten
years
or
so
.
For
thousands
of
years
people
had
made
do
with
incense
and
myrrh
,
a
few
balms
,
oils
,
and
dried
aromatic
herbs
.
And
even
once
they
had
learned
to
use
retorts
and
alembics
for
distilling
herbs
,
flowers
,
and
woods
and
stealing
the
aromatic
base
of
their
vapors
in
the
form
of
volatile
oils
,
to
crush
seeds
and
pits
and
fruit
rinds
in
oak
presses
,
and
to
extract
the
scent
from
petals
with
carefully
filtered
oils-even
then
,
the
number
of
perfumes
had
been
modest
.
In
those
days
a
figure
like
Pelissier
would
have
been
an
impossibility
,
for
back
then
just
for
the
production
of
a
simple
pomade
you
needed
abilities
of
which
this
vinegar
mixer
could
not
even
dream
.
You
had
to
be
able
not
merely
to
distill
,
but
also
to
act
as
maker
of
salves
,
apothecary
,
alchemist
,
and
craftsman
,
merchant
,
humanist
,
and
gardener
all
in
one
.
You
had
to
be
able
to
distinguish
sheep
suet
from
calves
'
suet
,
a
victoria
violet
from
a
parma
violet
.
You
had
to
be
fluent
in
Latin
.
You
had
to
know
when
heliotrope
is
harvested
and
when
pelargonium
blooms
,
and
that
the
jasmine
blossom
loses
its
scent
at
sunrise
.
Obviously
Pelissier
had
not
the
vaguest
notion
of
such
matters
.
He
had
probably
never
left
Paris
,
never
in
all
his
life
seen
jasmine
in
bloom
.
Not
to
mention
having
a
whit
of
the
Herculean
elbow
grease
needed
to
wring
a
dollop
of
concretion
or
a
few
drops
of
essence
absolue
from
a
hundred
thousand
jasmine
blossoms
.
Probably
he
knew
such
things-knew
jasmine-only
as
a
bottle
of
dark
brown
liquid
concentrate
that
stood
in
his
locked
cabinet
alongside
the
many
other
bottles
from
which
he
mixed
his
fashionable
perfumes
.
No
,
in
the
good
old
days
of
true
craftsmen
,
a
man
like
this
coxcomb
Pelissier
would
never
have
got
his
foot
in
the
door
.
He
lacked
everything
:
character
,
education
,
serenity
,
and
a
sense
for
the
hierarchy
within
a
guild
.
He
owed
his
few
successes
at
perfumery
solely
to
the
discovery
made
some
two
hundred
years
before
by
that
genius
Mauritius
Frangipani-an
Italian
,
let
it
be
noted
!
-
that
odors
are
soluble
in
rectified
spirit
.
By
mixing
his
aromatic
powder
with
alcohol
and
so
transferring
its
odor
to
a
volatile
liquid
,
Frangipani
had
liberated
scent
from
matter
,
had
etherialized
scent
,
had
discovered
scent
as
pure
scent
;
in
short
,
he
had
created
perfume
.
What
a
feat
!
What
an
epoch-making
achievement
!
Comparable
really
only
to
the
greatest
accomplishments
of
humankind
,
like
the
invention
of
writing
by
the
Assyrians
,
Euclidean
geometry
,
the
ideas
of
Plato
,
or
the
metamorphosis
of
grapes
into
wine
by
the
Greeks
.
A
truly
Promethean
act
!
And
yet
,
just
as
ail
great
accomplishments
of
the
spirit
cast
both
shadow
and
light
,
offering
humankind
vexation
and
misery
along
with
their
benefits
,
so
,
too
,
Frangipani
's
marvelous
invention
had
its
unfortunate
results
.
For
now
that
people
knew
how
to
bind
the
essence
of
flowers
and
herbs
,
woods
,
resins
,
and
animal
secretions
within
tinctures
and
fill
them
into
bottles
,
the
art
of
perfumery
was
slipping
bit
by
bit
from
the
hands
of
the
masters
of
the
craft
and
becoming
accessible
to
mountebanks
,
at
least
a
mountebank
with
a
passably
discerning
nose
,
like
this
skunk
Pelissier
.
Without
ever
bothering
to
learn
how
the
marvelous
contents
of
these
bottles
had
come
to
be
,
they
could
simply
follow
their
olfactory
whims
and
concoct
whatever
popped
into
their
heads
or
struck
the
public
's
momentary
fancy
.
