Everything had been prepared for the festival.[209] On the eve of Epiphany there was usually a grand supper, at which, according to custom, the king of the feast was proclaimed, after which there was shouting and joking, singing and dancing. Caturce was determined to take part in the festival, but in such a way that it should not pass off in the usual manner. When the services of the day in honour of the three kings of the East were over, the company sat down to table: they drank the wine of the south, and at last the cake was brought in. One of the guests found the bean, the gaiety increased, and they were about to celebrate the new royalty by the ordinary toast: _the king drinks!_ when Caturce stood up. 'There is only one king,' he said, 'and Jesus Christ is he. It is not enough for his name to flit through our brains—he must dwell in our hearts. He who has Christ in him wants for nothing. Instead then of shouting _the king drinks_, let us say this night: _May Christ, the true king, reign in all our hearts!_'[210] The professor of Toulouse was much esteemed in his native town, and many of his acquaintances already loved the Gospel. The lips that were ready to shout _the king drinks_ were dumb, and many sympathised, at least by their silence, with the new 'toast' which he proposed to them. Caturce continued: 'My friends, I propose that after supper, instead of loose talk, dances, and revelry, each of us shall bring forward in his turn one passage of Holy Scripture.' The proposal was accepted, and the noisy supper was changed into an orderly christian assembly. First one man repeated some passage that had struck him, then another did the same; but Caturce, says the chronicle, 'entered deeper into the matter than the rest of the company,' contending that Jesus Christ ought to sit on the throne of our hearts. The professor returned to the university. This Twelfth-night supper produced so great a sensation, that a report was made of it at Toulouse. The officers of justice apprehended the licentiate in the midst of his books and his lessons, and brought him before the court. 'Your worships,' he said, 'I am willing to maintain what I have at heart, but let my opponents be learned men with their books, who will prove what they advance. I should wish each point to be decided without wandering talk.' The discussion began; but the most learned theologians were opposed to him in vain, for the licentiate, who had the Divine Word within him, answered 'promptly, pertinently, and with much power, quoting immediately the passages of Scripture which best served his purpose,' says the chronicle. The doctors were silenced, and the professor was taken back to prison.[211]