Meanwhile Nydia recovered her self-possession: a thought flashed across her: she slept in the chamber of Julia—she might possess herself of the potion.
They arrived at the house of Diomed, and descended to Julia's apartment, where the night's repast awaited them.
'Drink, Nydia, thou must be cold, the air was chill to-night; as for me, my veins are yet ice.'
And Julia unhesitatingly quaffed deep draughts of the spiced wine.
'Thou hast the potion,' said Nydia; 'let me hold it in my hands. How small the phial is! of what color is the draught?'
'Clear as crystal,' replied Julia, as she retook the philtre; 'thou couldst not tell it from this water. The witch assures me it is tasteless. Small though the phial, it suffices for a life's fidelity: it is to be poured into any liquid; and Glaucus will only know what he has quaffed by the effect.'
'Exactly like this water in appearance?'
'Yes, sparkling and colorless as this. How bright it seems! it is as the very essence of moonlit dews. Bright thing! how thou shinest on my hopes through thy crystal vase!'
'And how is it sealed?'
'But by one little stopper—I withdraw it now—the draught gives no odor. Strange, that that which speaks to neither sense should thus command all!'