By Anton Chekhov
1887
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860-1904) was a Russian physician, playwright, and author. He is famous for his
mastery of crafting short stories. As you read, take notes on how the author creates humor in the story.
In spite of a violent attack of gout1
in the night and
the nervous exhaustion left by it, Kistunov went in the
morning to his office and began punctually seeing the
clients of the bank and persons who had come with
petitions. He looked languid2
and exhausted, and
spoke in a faint voice hardly above a whisper, as
though he were dying.
”What can I do for you?” he asked a lady in an
antediluvian3 mantle, whose back view was extremely
suggestive of a huge dung-beetle.
“You see, your Excellency,” the petitioner in question
began, speaking rapidly, “my husband Shtchukin, a
collegiate assessor, was ill for five months, and while
he, if you will excuse my saying so, was laid up at
home, he was for no sort of reason dismissed, your
Excellency; and when I went for his salary they
deducted, if you please, your Excellency, twenty-four
roubles thirty-six kopecks4
from his salary. ‘What for?’
I asked. ‘He borrowed from the club fund,’ they told
me, ‘and the other clerks had stood security for him.’ How was that? How could he have borrowed it without my
consent? It’s impossible, your Excellency. What’s the reason of it? I am a poor woman, I earn my bread by taking
in lodgers. I am a weak, defenceless woman… I have to put up with ill-usage from everyone and never hear a
kind word…”
The petitioner was blinking, and dived into her mantle for her handkerchief. Kistunov took her petition from her
and began reading it.
“Excuse me, what’s this?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders. “I can make nothing of it. Evidently you have come
- a form of arthritis and swelling of the joints, often brought on by an overly rich diet
- Languid (adjective) sluggish or slow; lacking quickness, often from exhaustion
- ridiculously old-fashioned; something made a long time ago
- Rubles and kopecks are forms of Russian currency.
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to the wrong place, madam. Your petition has nothing to do with us at all. You will have to apply to the
department in which your husband was employed.”
“Why, my dear sir, I have been to five places already, and they would not even take the petition anywhere,” said
Madame Shtchukin. “I’d quite lost my head, but, thank goodness — God bless him for it — my son-in-law, Boris
Matveyitch, advised me to come to you. ‘You go to Mr. Kistunov, mamma: he is an influential man, he can do
anything for you…’ Help me, your Excellency!”
“We can do nothing for you, Madame Shtchukin. You must understand: your husband served in the Army
Medical Department, and our establishment is a purely private commercial undertaking, a bank. Surely you
must understand that!”
Kistunov shrugged his shoulders again and turned to a gentleman in a military uniform, with a swollen face.
“Your Excellency,” piped Madame Shtchukin in a pitiful voice, “I have the doctor’s certificate that my husband
was ill! Here it is, if you will kindly look at it.”
[10] “Very good, I believe you,” Kistunov said irritably, “but I repeat it has nothing to do with us. It’s queer5
and
positively absurd! Surely your husband must know where you are to apply?”
“He knows nothing, your Excellency. He keeps on: ‘It’s not your business! Get away!’ — that’s all I can get out of
him… Whose business is it, then? It’s I have to keep them all!”
Kistunov again turned to Madame Shtchukin and began explaining to her the difference between the Army
Medical Department and a private bank. She listened attentively, nodded in token of assent, and said:
“Yes… yes… yes… I understand, sir. In that case, your Excellency, tell them to pay me fifteen roubles at least! I
agree to take part on account!”
“Ough!” sighed Kistunov, letting his head drop back. “There’s no making you see reason. Do understand that to
apply to us with such a petition is as strange as to send in a petition concerning divorce, for instance, to a
chemist’s or to the Assaying Board. You have not been paid your due, but what have we to do with it?”
[15] “Your Excellency, make me remember you in my prayers for the rest of my days, have pity on a lone, lorn
woman,” wailed Madame Shtchukin; “I am a weak, defenceless woman… I am worried to death, I’ve to settle
with the lodgers and see to my husband’s affairs and fly round looking after the house, and I am going to
church every day this week, and my son-in-law is out of a job… I might as well not eat or drink… I can scarcely
keep on my feet… I haven’t slept all night…”
Kistunov was conscious of the palpitation of his heart.6 With a face of anguish,7
pressing his hand on his heart,
he began explaining to Madame Shtchukin again, but his voice failed him. - an antiquated term for “strange”
- a noticeably rapid, strong, or irregular heartbeat
- Anguish (noun) severe mental or physical pain and suffering; distress, or anxiety
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“No, excuse me, I cannot talk to you,” he said with a wave of his hand. “My head’s going round. You are
hindering8
us and wasting your time. Ough! Alexey Nikolaitch,” he said, addressing one of his clerks, “please will
you explain to Madame Shtchukin?”
Kistunov, passing by all the petitioners, went to his private room and signed about a dozen papers while Alexey
Nikolaitch was still engaged with Madame Shtchukin. As he sat in his room Kistunov heard two voices: the
monotonous,9
restrained bass of Alexey Nikolaitch and the shrill, wailing voice of Madame Shtchukin.
“I am a weak, defenceless woman, I am a woman in delicate health,” said Madame Shtchukin. “I look strong, but
if you were to overhaul me there is not one healthy fibre in me. I can scarcely keep on my feet, and my appetite
is gone… I drank my cup of coffee this morning without the slightest relish…”
Alexey Nikolaitch explained to her the difference between the departments and the complicated system of
sending in papers. He was soon exhausted, and his place was taken by the accountant.
“A wonderfully disagreeable woman!” said Kistunov, revolted, nervously cracking his fingers and continually
going to the decanter of water. “She’s a perfect idiot! She’s worn me out and she’ll exhaust them, the nasty
creature! Ough!… my heart is throbbing.”
Half an hour later he rang his bell. Alexey Nikolaitch made his appearance.
“How are things going?” Kistunov asked languidly.
“We can’t make her see anything, Pyotr Alexandritch! We are simply done. We talk of one thing and she talks of
something else.”
“I… I can’t stand the sound of her voice… I am ill… I can’t bear it.”
“Send for the porter, Pyotr Alexandritch, let him put her out.”
“No, no,” cried Kistunov in alarm. “She will set up a squeal, and there are lots of flats in this building, and
goodness knows what they would think of us… Do try and explain to her, my dear fellow…”
A minute later the deep drone of Alexey Nikolaitch’s voice was audible again. A quarter of an hour passed, and
instead of his bass there was the murmur of the accountant’s powerful tenor.
“Re-mark-ably nasty woman,” Kistunov thought indignantly, nervously shrugging his shoulders. “No more brains
than a sheep. I believe that’s a twinge of the gout again… My migraine is coming back…”
In the next room Alexey Nikolaitch, at the end of his resources, at last tapped his finger on the table and then
on his own forehead. - Hinder (verb) to make slow or difficult
- Monotonous (adjective) unvarying; marked by a sameness of pitch and intensity
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“The fact of the matter is you haven’t a head on your shoulders,” he said, “but this.”
“Come, come,” said the old lady, offended. “Talk to your own wife like that… You screw!…10 Don’t be too free
with your hands.”
And looking at her with fury, with exasperation, as though he would devour her, Alexey Nikolaitch said in a
quiet, stifled voice:
“Clear out.”
“Wha-at?” squealed Madame Shtchukin. “How dare you? I am a weak, defenceless woman; I won’t endure it. My
husband is a collegiate assessor. You screw!… I will go to Dmitri Karlitch, the lawyer, and there will be nothing
left of you! I’ve had the law of three lodgers, and I will make you flop down at my feet for your saucy words! I’ll
go to your general. Your Excellency, your Excellency!”
“Be off, you pest,” hissed Alexey Nikolaitch.
Kistunov opened his door and looked into the office.
“What is it?” he asked in a tearful voice.
Madame Shtchukin, as red as a crab, was standing in the middle of the room, rolling her eyes and prodding the
air with her fingers. The bank clerks were standing round red in the face too, and, evidently harassed, were
looking at each other distractedly.
“Your Excellency,” cried Madame Shtchukin, pouncing upon Kistunov. “Here, this man, he here… this man…”
(She pointed to Alexey Nikolaitch) “…tapped himself on the forehead and then tapped the table… You told him
to go into my case, and he’s jeering at me! I am a weak, defenceless woman… My husband is a collegiate
assessor, and I am a major’s daughter myself! “
“Very good, madam,” moaned Kistunov. “I will go into it… I will take steps… Go away… later!”
“And when shall I get the money, your Excellency? I need it to-day!”
Kistunov passed his trembling hand over his forehead, heaved a sigh, and began explaining again.
“Madam, I have told you already this is a bank, a private commercial establishment… What do you want of us?
And do understand that you are hindering us.”
Madame Shtchukin listened to him and sighed.
“To be sure, to be sure,” she assented. “Only, your Excellency, do me the kindness, make me pray for you for the
rest of my life, be a father, protect me! If a medical certificate is not enough I can produce an affidavit11 from - A colloquialism referring to someone who cheats or swindles a person out of money.
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“A Defenseless Creature” by Anton Chekhov (1887) is in the public domain.
Unless otherwise noted, this content is licensed under the CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 license
the police… Tell them to give me the money.”
Everything began swimming before Kistunov’s eyes. He breathed out all the air in his lungs in a prolonged sigh
and sank helpless on a chair.
“How much do you want?” he asked in a weak voice.
“Twenty-four roubles and thirty-six kopecks.”
Kistunov took his pocket-book out of his pocket, extracted a twenty-five rouble note and gave it to Madame
Shtchukin.
“Take it and… and go away!”
Madame Shtchukin wrapped the money up in her handkerchief, put it away, and pursing up her face into a
sweet, mincing, even coquettish12 smile, asked:
“Your Excellency, and would it be possible for my husband to get a post again?”
“I am going… I am ill…” said Kistunov in a weary voice. “I have dreadful palpitations.”
When he had driven home Alexey Nikolaitch sent Nikita for some laurel drops, and, after taking twenty drops
each, all the clerks set to work, while Madame Shtchukin stayed another two hours in the vestibule,13 talking to
the porter and waiting for Kistunov to return…
She came again next day. - a sworn statement made in writing, especially under oath or on affirmation before an authorized
magistrate or officer - playful or flirtatious
- a passage, hall, or room between the outer door and the interior of a building; a lobby
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Discussion Questions
Directions: Brainstorm your answers to the following questions in the space provided. Be prepared to share
your original ideas in a class discussion. - Who is the protagonist in this short story? Who is the antagonist? Cite evidence from the text and
other literature to support your answer. - What is Chekhov’s message in “A Defenseless Creature”? What does it say about women?
- What can we learn from comedy? Cite evidence from this text, your own experience, and other
literature, art, or history in your answer.
