He took aim, and his bullet went through my cap. It was now my turn. His life at last was in my hands; I looked at him eagerly, endeavoring to detect if only the faintest shadow of uneasiness. But he stood in front of my pistol, picking out the ripest cherries from his cap and spitting out the stones, which flew almost as far as my feet. His indifference annoyed me beyond measure. ... I lowered my pistol.'You don't seem to be ready for death just at present," I said to him: "you wish to have your breakfast; I do not wish to hinder you". "You are not hindering me in the least," replied he. "Have the goodness to fire, or just as you please--the shot remains yours; I shall always be ready at your service". I turned to the seconds, informing them that I had no intention of firing that day, and with that the duel came to an end.
Alexander Pushkin
The Shot