The day came.  The Academie was crowded.  The King and the Court were there, all expecting to be diverted.  M. de Noyon, saluting everybody with a satisfaction he did riot dissimulate, made his speech with his usual confidence, and in his usual style.  The Abbe replied with a modest air, and with a gravity and slowness that gave great effect to his ridiculous discourse.  The surprise and pleasure were general, and each person strove to intoxicate M. de Noyon more and more, making him believe that the speech of the Abbe was relished solely because it had so worthily praised him.  The prelate was delighted with the Abbe and the public, and conceived not the slightest mistrust.

The noise which this occurrence made may be imagined, and the praises M. de Noyon gave himself in relating everywhere what he had said, and what had been replied to him.  M. de Paris, to whose house he went, thus triumphing, did not like him, and endeavoured to open his eyes to the humiliation he had received.  For some time M. de Noyon would not be convinced of the truth; it was not until he had consulted with Pere la Chaise that he believed it.  The excess of rage and vexation succeeded then to the excess of rapture he had felt.  In this state he returned to his house, and went the next day to Versailles.  There he made the most bitter complaints to the King, of the Abbe de Caumartin, by whose means he had become the sport and laughing-stock of all the world.

The King, who had learned what had passed, was himself displeased.  He ordered Pontchartrain (who was related to Caumartin) to rebuke the Abbe, and to send him a lettre de cachet, in order that he might go and ripen his brain in his Abbey of Busay, in Brittany, and better learn there how to speak and write.  Pontchartrain executed the first part of his commission, but not the second.  He pointed out to the King that the speech of the Abbe de Caumartin had been revised and corrected by M. de Noyon, and that, therefore, this latter had only himself to blame in the matter.  He declared, too, that the Abbe was very sorry for what he had done, and was most willing to beg pardon of M. de Noyon.  The lettre de cachet thus fell to the ground, but not the anger of the prelate.  He was so outraged that he would not see the Abbe, retired into his diocese to hide his shame, and remained there a long time.

Upon his return to Paris, however, being taken ill, before consenting to receive the sacraments, he sent for the Abbe, embraced him, pardoned him, and gave him a diamond ring, that he drew from his finger, and that he begged him to keep in memory of him.  Nay, more, when he was cured, he used all his influence to reinstate the Abbe in the esteem of the King.  But the King could never forgive what had taken place, and M. de Noyon, by this grand action, gained only the favour of God and the honour of the world.