HE WORKED WITHOUT pause for two hours-with increasingly hectic1 movements, increasingly slipshod scribblings of his pen on the paper, and increasingly large doses of perfume sprinkled onto his handkerchief and held to his nose.
He could hardly smell anything now, the volatile2 substances he was inhaling3 had long since drugged him; he could no longer recognize what he thought had been established beyond doubt at the start of his analysis. He knew that it was pointless to continue smelling. He would never ascertain4 the ingredients of this newfangled perfume, certainly not today, nor tomorrow either, when his nose would have recovered, God willing. He had never learned fractionary smelling. Dissecting5 scents7, fragmenting a unity8, whether well or not-so-well blended, into its simple components9 was a wretched, loathsome10 business. It did not interest him. He did not want to continue.
But his hand automatically kept on making the dainty motion, practiced a thousand times over, of dunking the handkerchief, shaking it out, and whisking it rapidly past his face, and with each whisk he automatically snapped up a portion of scent6-drenched11 air, only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. Until finally his own nose liberated12 him from the torture, swelling13 in allergic14 reaction till it was stopped up as tight as if plugged with wax. He could not smell a thing now, could hardly breathe. It was as if a bad cold had soldered15 his nose shut; little tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Thank God in heaven! Now he could quit in good conscience. He had done his duty, to the best of his abilities, according to all the rules of the art, and was, as so often before, defeated. Ultra posse nemo obligatur. Closing time. Tomorrow morning he would send off to Pelissi-er’s for a large bottle of Amor and Psyche16 and use it to scent the Spanish hide for Count Verhamont, as per order. And after that he would take his valise, full of old-fashioned soaps, scent bags, pomades, and sachets and make his rounds among the salons17 of doddering countesses. And one day the last doddering countess would be dead, and with her his last customer. By then he would himself be doddering and would have to sell his business, to Pelissier or another one of these upstart merchants-perhaps he would get a few thousand livres for it. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife, if she was not dead herself by then. And if he survived the trip, he would buy a little house in the country near Messina where things were cheap. And there in bitterest poverty he, Giuseppe Baldini, once the greatest perfumer of Paris, would die-whenever God willed it. And that was well and good.
He stoppered the flacon, laid down his pen, and wiped the drenched handkerchief across his forehead one last time. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol, but nothing else. Then the sun went down.
Baldini stood up. He opened the jalousie and his body was bathed to the knees in the sunset, caught fire like a burnt-out torch glimmering18 low. He saw the deep red rim19 of the sun behind the Louvre and the softer fire across the slate20 roofs of the city. On the river shining like gold below him, the ships had disappeared. And a wind must have come up, for gusts21 were serrating the surface, and it glittered now here, now there, moving ever closer, as if a giant hand were scattering22 millions of louis d’or over the water. For a moment it seemed the direction of the river had changed: it was flowing toward Baldini, a shimmering23 flood of pure gold.
Baldini’s eyes were moist and sad. He stood there motionless for a long time gazing at the splendid scene. Then, suddenly, he flung both window casements24 wide and pitched the fiacon with Pelissier’s perfume away in a high arc. He saw it splash and rend25 the glittering carpet of water for an instant.
Fresh air streamed into the room. Baldini gulped26 for breath and noticed that the swelling in his nose was subsiding27. Then he closed the window. At almost the same moment, night fell, very suddenly. The view of a glistening28 golden city and river turned into a rigid29, ashen30 gray silhouette31. Inside the room, all at once it was dark. Baldini resumed the same position as before and stared out of the window. “I shall not send anyone to Pelissier’s in the morning,” he said, grasping the back of his armchair with both hands. “I shall not do it. And I shall not make my tour of the salons either. Instead, I shall go to the notary32 tomorrow morning and sell my house and my business. That is what I shall do. E basta!”
The expression on his face was that of a cheeky young boy, and he suddenly felt very happy. He was once again the old, the young Baldini, as bold and determined33 as ever to contend with fate-even if contending meant a retreat in this case. And what if it did! There was nothing else to do. These were stupid times, and they left him no choice. God gives good times and bad times, but He does not wish us to bemoan34 and bewail the bad times, but to prove ourselves men. And He had given His sign. That golden, blood-red mirage35 of the city had been a warning: act now, Baldini, before it is too late! Your house still stands firm, your storage rooms are still full, you will still be able to get a good price for your slumping36 business. The decisions are still in your hands. To grow old living modestly in Messina had not been his goal in life, true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor37 in Paris. Let the Brouets, Calteaus, and Pelissiers have their triumph. Giuseppe Baldini was clearing out. But he did it unbent and of his own free will!
He was quite proud of himself now. And his mind was finally at peace. For the first time in years, there was an easing in his back of the subordinate’s cramp38 that had tensed his neck and given an increasingly obsequious39 hunch40 to his shoulders. And he stood up straight without strain, relaxed and free and pleased with himself. His breath passed lightly through his nose. He could clearly smell the scent of Amor and Psyche that reigned41 in the room, but he did not let it affect him anymore. Baidini had changed his life and felt wonderful. He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision, and then he would make a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame and light a candle thanking God for His gracious prompting and for having endowed him, Giuseppe Baldini, with such unbelievable strength of character.
With almost youthful elan, he plopped his wig42 onto his bald head, slipped into his blue coat, grabbed the candlestick from the desk, and left his study. He had just lit the tallow candle in the stairwell to light his way up to his living quarters when he heard a doorbell ring on the ground floor. It was not the Persian chimes at the shop door, but the shrill43 ring of the servants’ entrance, a repulsive44 sound that had always annoyed him. He had often made up his mind to have the thing removed and replaced with a more pleasant bell, but then the cost would always seem excessive. The thought suddenly occurred to him-and he giggled45 as it did-that it made no difference now, he would be selling the obtrusive46 doorbell along with the house. Let his successor deal with the vexation!
The bell rang shrilly47 again. He cocked his ear for sounds below. Apparently48 Chenier had already left the shop. And the servant girl seemed not about to answer it either. So Baldini went downstairs to open the door himself.
He pulled back the bolt, swung the heavy door open-and saw nothing. The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. Then, very gradually, he began to make out a figure, a child or a half-grown boy carrying something over his arm.
“What do you want?”
“I’m from Maitre Grimal, I’m delivering the goatskins,” said the figure and stepped closer and held out to him a stack of hides hanging from his cocked arm. By the light of his candle, Baldini could now see the boy’s face and his nervous, searching eyes. He carried himself hunched49 over. He looked as if he were hiding behind his own outstretched arm, waiting to be struck a blow. It was Grenouille.
收听单词发音 |
1
hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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3
inhaling
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| v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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dissecting
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| v.解剖（动物等）( dissect的现在分词 )；仔细分析或研究 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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components
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| （机器、设备等的）构成要素，零件，成分； 成分( component的名词复数 )； [物理化学]组分； [数学]分量； （混合物的）组成部分 | |
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loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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allergic
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| adj.过敏的，变态的 | |
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soldered
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| v.（使）焊接，焊合( solder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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psyche
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| n.精神；灵魂 | |
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salons
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| n.（营业性质的）店( salon的名词复数 )；厅；沙龙（旧时在上流社会女主人家的例行聚会或聚会场所）；（大宅中的）客厅 | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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22
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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casements
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| n.窗扉( casement的名词复数 ) | |
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rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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28
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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notary
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| n.公证人，公证员 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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bemoan
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| v.悲叹，哀泣，痛哭；惋惜，不满于 | |
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mirage
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
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36
slumping
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的现在分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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37
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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38
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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40
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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41
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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42
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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43
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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44
repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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45
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
obtrusive
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| adj.显眼的；冒失的 | |
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47
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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48
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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49
hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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