Old Munnich undertook to save him, by one, by two or even three different methods, "Only order me, and stand up to it with sword bare!"-- but Peter's wits were all flying miscellaneously about, and he could resolve on nothing.
Peter and his Czarina never met more.

Saturday (to-morrow), he abdicates; drives over to Peterhof, expecting, as per bargain, interview with his Wife; freedom to retire to Holstein, and "every sort of kindness compatible with his situation:" but is met there instead, on the staircase, by brutal people, who tear the orders off his coat, at length the very clothes off his back,--and pack him away to Ropscha, a quiet Villa some miles off, to sit silent there till Orlof and Company have considered.

Consideration is: "To Holstein?
He has an Anti-Danish Russian Army just now in that neighborhood; he will not be safe in Holstein;--where will he be safe ?" Saturday, 17th, Peter's seventh day in Ropscha, the Orlofs (Scarred Orlof and Four other miscreants, one of them a Prince, one a Play-actor) came over, and murdered poor Peter, in a treacherous, and even bungling and disgusting, and altogether hideous manner.

"A glass of burgundy [poisoned burgundy], your Highness ?" said they, at dinner with his poor Highness.

On the back of which, the burgundy having failed and been found out, came grappling and hauling, trampling, shrieking, and at last strangulation.