The decisive moment arrived.... 'Each took his pistol....'

But at this point Herr von Richter observed to Pantaleone that it was
his duty, as the senior second, according to the rules of the duel,
to address a final word of advice and exhortation to be reconciled
to the combatants, before uttering the fatal 'one! two! three!'; that
although this exhortation had no effect of any sort and was, as a
rule, nothing but an empty formality, still, by the performance of
this formality, Herr Cippatola would be rid of a certain share of
responsibility; that, properly speaking, such an admonition formed the
direct duty of the so-called 'impartial witness' (_unpartheiischer
Zeuge_) but since they had no such person present, he, Herr von
Richter, would readily yield this privilege to his honoured colleague.
Pantaleone, who had already succeeded in obliterating himself behind
a bush, so as not to see the offending officer at all, at first made
out nothing at all of Herr von Richter's speech, especially, as it
had been delivered through the nose, but all of a sudden he started,
stepped hurriedly forward, and convulsively thumping at his chest, in
a hoarse voice wailed out in his mixed jargon: '_A la la la ... Che
bestialita! Deux zeun ommes comme ca que si battono--perche? Che
diavolo? An data a casa!_'

'I will not consent to a reconciliation,' Sanin intervened hurriedly.

'And I too will not,' his opponent repeated after him.

'Well, then shout one, two, three!' von Richter said, addressing the
distracted Pantaleone. The latter promptly ducked behind the bush
again, and from there, all huddled together, his eyes screwed up, and
his head turned away, he shouted at the top of his voice: '_Una ...