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When it was time for music and the public bowl, the old man said: “we must take away the small wine vessels and bring in the big ones,  so that they may come to their pleasures more quickly” Then there was the work of bringing gold and silver cups; he took up a chosen one, as if to do a favor for the new master, and gave him the full cup—he had put in the wine  a deadly poison which they say his mistress had given him, to kill the new son; and no one knew this. When Xuthus' revealed son was holding a libation among the rest, one of the slaves said a profane word;  he, as one brought up within the temple and with expert seers, thought it an omen and required another goblet to be filled afresh. The former libations to the god he cast upon the ground, instructing everyone to pour them out. Silence came over us. We were filling  the sacred bowls with water and wine of Byblos. While we were at work, a fluttering troop of doves burst into the tent—for they live in Phoebus' house without fear—and where they had poured out the wine, the birds let down their beaks to it, yearning for the drink,  and they drew it into their beautifully-feathered throats.