It was a rash undertaking for the Chouïski and the Biélski, who brought the boy up in this fashion, to claim any lengthy control over an autocrat who would soon have a beard on his chin, and was already old enough to realize his own position. He beheld the very men who offended and ill-used him in private, who quarrelled over his patrimony, and used it, one after the other for, their own convenience, go back to their real rank when there was any official function—Court festivity or reception of a foreign Ambassador—bend lowly before his throne, become crawling slaves. He was soon to turn this lesson to account. In September, 1543, he had allowed himself to be parted from Vorontsov. In the December of that year, having previously put the docility of his dog-boys to the test, he had Andrew Chouïski carried off by them. The rogues obeyed, and even went beyond their orders, for they strangled the boïar, whom they had been told to hale to prison. Ivan held it well done, and everybody understood that Russia's master, at all events, if not her government, was changed.
The boïars he had spared went on governing in their own way, but they did not venture to cross their Sovereign, who, before Louis XIV., had, after his own fashion, spoken the words, L'état, c'est moi! He began to go about the streets now, thrashing the men he met, violating the women, and always applauded by those about him. Feodor Vorontsov, whom he had recalled from exile, was one of these; but the master's favour was already veering towards more docile comrades, whose names and parentage shielded them less from his caprice.
Ivan preferred his dog-boys to members of the aristocracy, whom he was apt to suspect and dread as being fresh Chouíski. In May, 1546, while he was hunting near Kolomna, he found himself face to face with a troop of armed men who barred his way. They were the Novgorod musketeers, coming to complain of their governor. Ivan, who understood nothing about their business, ordered them to be put aside. There was a scuffle, in the course of which several shots were exchanged. The young Prince was not hurt, but he was very much frightened. His physical courage was always to fail him. In addition to a very probable hereditary predisposition, the terrors of his childhood had made him nervous in the extreme, his body shivered and his soul was troubled at the slightest alarm. He took to his heels, imagined a plot, and ordered an inquiry. A candidate for his favour, Vassili Zakharov, at that moment a plain diak, had no difficulty in obtaining a hearing for his accusation of Vorontsov and his family, already under suspicion and in semi-disgrace. The pupil at once went far beyond his teachers. The Terrible came upon the scene.
