"'I said: "Did you ever hear about the Vagres?" "Alas, yes! Those people commit grave crimes in other regions. But, thank God, the Vagrery never entered Burgundy." "Well, bishop, I wish to inform you that bands of Vagres are approaching your diocese." "Oh, woe is me! Woe is all of us! What will become of us all? My diocese will be ravaged, my treasury pillaged, my palace in Chalon sacked, my villa burned down! Monk, what desolation!" "Bishop, is not the Valley of Charolles located in your diocese?" "It belongs to glorious King Clotaire, like all the rest of the lands of Gaul that have not been distributed as benefices either by himself, or by his father, King Clovis, to the chiefs of the leudes and the Church." "Are you not a friend of Clotaire's?" "That great King shows me a good deal of kindness." "Demand of him in my name the gift of the Valley of Charolles; I shall found there a community of monk-laborers. Around the monastery a lay colony will be established, open to the Vagres. A portion of the lands shall be reserved for the monk-laborers, the rest shall be left to the colonists. But the gift must be absolute, hereditary and free from all taxes, fees or imposts. The colonists are to be recognized as free in fact and by right, they and their descendants. Obtain the donation for me from King Clotaire, and the troop of Vagres, instead of becoming a source of terror to the region, will be a source of security to your diocese." Such was the conversation. The bishop hastened to forward my application to King Clotaire; and yesterday a royal messenger brought the King's answer. Here it is, I shall read it to you.