At last the Sultan’s order arrived with command to put to the sword all the Swedes who made the least resistance, and not to spare the King’s life; the Pasha had the civility to show the order to M. Fabricius, that he might make a last effort with Charles. Fabricius went at once to tell him his bad news. “Have you seen the order you refer to?” said the King. “I have,” replied Fabricius. “Tell them,” said the King, “from me that this order is a second forgery of theirs, and that I will not go.” Fabricius fell at his feet in a transport of rage, and scolded him for his obstinacy. “Go back to your Turks,” said the King, smiling at him; “if they attack me, I know how to defend myself.” The King’s chaplains also fell on their knees before him, beseeching him not to expose the wretched remnant over from Pultawa, and above all, his own sacred person, to death; adding, besides, that resistance in this case was a most unwarrantable deed, and that it was a violation of the laws of hospitality to resolve to stay against their will with strangers who had so long and generously supported him. The King, who had showed no resentment with Fabricius, became angry on this occasion, and told his priests that he employed them to pray for him, and not to give him advice. General Hoord and General Dardoff, who had always been against venturing a battle which in the result must prove fatal, showed the King their breasts, covered with wounds received in his service, and assured him that they were ready to die for him, and begged him that it might be on a more worthy occasion. “I know,” said the King, “by my wounds and yours that we have fought valiantly together. You have hitherto done your duty; do it again now.” The only thing remaining was to obey; they were all ashamed not to seek death with their King. He prepared for the assault, secretly gloating over the pleasure and honour of resisting with 300 Swedes the efforts of a whole army. He gave every man his place; his chancellor, Mullern, his secretary, Empreus, and the clerks were to defend the Chancery house; Baron Fief, at the head of the officers of the kitchen, was to defend another post; the grooms of the stables and the cooks had another place to guard, for with him every man was a soldier. He rode from his fortifications to his house, promising rewards to every one, creating officers, and declaring that he would make his humblest servant captain if he behaved with valour in the engagement.