He was reaching for the candlestick on the table, when from the doorway came Grenouilles pinched snarclass="underline" I dont know what a formula is, maitre. I dont know that, but otherwise I know everything!
A formula is the alpha and omega of every perfume, replied Baldini sternly, for he wanted to end this conversation-now. It contains scrupulously exact instructions for the proportions needed to mix individual ingredients so that the result is the unmistakable scent one desires. That is a formula. It is the recipe-if that is a word you understand better.
Formula, formula, rasped Grenouille and grew somewhat larger in the doorway. I dont need a formula. I have the recipe in my nose. Can I mix it for you, maitre, can I mix it, can I?
Hows that? pried Baldini in a rather loud voice and held the candle up to the gnomes face. How would you mix it?
For the first time, Grenouille did not flinch. Why, theyre all here, all the ones you need, the scents, theyre all here, in this room, he said, pointing again into the darkness. Theres attar of roses! Theres orange blossom! Thats clove! Thats rosemary, there!
Certainly theyre here! roared Baldini. They are all here. But Im telling you, you blockhead, that is of no use if one does not have the formula!
Theres jasmine! Alcohol there! Bergamot there! Storax there! Grenouille went on crowing, and at each name he pointed to a different spot in the room, although it was so dark that at best you could surmise the shadows of the cupboards filled with bottles.
You can see in the dark, can you? Baldini went on. You not only have the best nose, but also the keenest eyes in Paris, do you? Now if you have passably good ears, then open them up, because Im telling you: you are a little swindler. You probably picked up your information at Pelissiers, did some spying, is that it? And now you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, right?
Grenouille was now standing up, completely unfolded to full size, so to speak, in the doorway, his legs slightly apart, his arms slightly spread, so that he looked like a black spider that had latched onto the threshold and frame. Give me ten minutes, he said in close to a normal, fluent pattern of speech, and I will produce for you the perfume Amor and Psyche. Right now, right here in this room. Maitre, give me just five minutes!
Do you suppose Id let you slop around here in my laboratory? With essences that are worth a fortune? You?
Yes, said Grenouille.
Bah! Baldini shouted, exhaling all at once every bit of air he had in him. Then he took a deep breath and a long look at Grenouille the spider, and thought it over. Basically it makes no difference, he thought, because it will all be over tomorrow anyway. I know for a fact that he cant do what he claims he can, cant possibly do it. Why, that would make him greater than the great Frangipani. But why shouldnt I let him demonstrate before my eyes what I know to be true? It is possible that someday in Messina-people do grow very strange in old age and their minds fix on the craziest ideas-Ill get the notion that I had failed to recognize an olfactory genius, a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance, a wunderkind Its totally out of the question. Everything my reason tells me says it is out of the question-but miracles do happen, that is certain. So what if, when I lie dying in Messina someday, the thought comes to me there on my deathbed: On that evening, back in Paris, I shut my eyes to a miracle? That would not be very pleasant, Baldini. Let the fool waste a few drops of attar of roses and musk tincture; you would have wasted them yourself if Pelissiers perfume had still interested you. And what are a few drops-though expensive ones, very, very expensive!-compared to certain knowledge and a peaceful old age?
Now pay attention! he said with an affectedly stern voice. Pay attention! I what is your name, anyway?
Grenouille, said Grenouille. Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille,
Aha, said Baldini. All right then, now pay attention, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille! I have thought it over. You shall have the opportunity, now, this very moment, to prove your assertion. Your grandiose failure will also be an opportunity for you to learn the virtue of humility, which-although one may pardon the total lack of its development at your tender age-will be an absolute prerequisite for later advancement as a member of your guild and for your standing as a man, a man of honor, a dutiful subject, and a good Christian. I am prepared to teach you this lesson at my own expense. For certain reasons, I am feeling generous this evening, and, who knows, perhaps the recollection of this scene will amuse me one day. But do not suppose that you can dupe me! Giuseppe Baldinis nose is old, but it is still sharp, sharp enough immediately to recognize the slightest difference between your mixture and this product here. And at that he pulled the handkerchief drenched in Amor and Psyche from his pocket and waved it under Grenouilles nose. Come closer, best nose in Paris! Come here to the table and show me what you can do. But be careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. Dont touch anything yet. Let me provide some light first. We want to have lots of illumination for this little experiment, dont we?
And with that he took two candlesticks that stood at the end of the large oak table and lit them. He placed all three next to one another along the back, pushed the goatskins to one side, cleared the middle of the table. Then, with a few composed yet rapid motions, he fetched from a small stand the utensils needed for the task-the big-bellied mixing bottle, the glass funnel, the pipette, the small and large measuring glasses -and placed them in proper order on the oaken surface.
Grenouille had meanwhile freed himself from the doorframe. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech, the stiffness and cunning intensity had fallen away from him. He had heard only the approval, only the yes, with the inner jubilation of a child that has sulked its way to some permission granted and thumbs its nose at the limitations, conditions, and moral admonitions tied to it. Standing there at his ease and letting the rest of Baldinis oration flow by, he was for the first time more human than animal, because he knew that he had already conquered the man who had yielded to him.
While Baldini was still fussing with his candlesticks at the table, Grenouille had already slipped off into the darkness of the laboratory with its cupboards full of precious essences, oils, and tinctures, and following his sure-scenting nose, grabbed each of the necessary bottles from the shelves. There were nine altogether: essence of orange blossom, lime oil, attars of rose and clove, extracts of jasmine, bergamot, and rosemary, musk tincture, and storax balm, all quickly plucked down and set at the ready on the edge of the table. The last item he lugged over was a demijohn full of high-proof rectified spirit. Then he placed himself behind Baldini-who was still arranging his mixing utensils with deliberate pedantry, moving this glass back a bit, that one over more to one side, so that everything would be in its old accustomed order and displayed to its best advantage in the candlelight and waited, quivering with impatience, for the old man to get out of the way and make room for him.
There! Baldini said at last, stepping aside. Ive lined up everything youll require for-let us graciously call it-your experiment. Dont break anything, dont spill anything. 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.
How much of it shall I make for you, maitre? Grenouille asked.
Make what? said Baldini, who had not yet finished his speech.
How much of the perfume? rasped Grenouille. How much of it do you want? Shall I fill this big bottle here to the rim? And he pointed to a mixing bottle that held a gallon at the very least.
No, you shall not! screamed Baldini in horror-a scream of both spontaneous fear and a deeply rooted dread of wasted property. Embarrassed at what his scream had revealed, he followed it up by roaring, And dont interrupt me when I am speaking, either! Then in a calm voice tinged with irony, he continued, Why would we need a gallon of a perfume that neither of us thinks much of? Haifa beakerful will do, really. But since such small quantities are difficult to measure, Ill allow you to start with a third of a mixing bottle.