To talk of subsidies hurts no man’s conscience. What is the business, Cæsar? _Ner._ I am vexed By the complaints against the imperial household In the gathering of tolls.—Here in these papers Are weighty charges ’gainst Pomponius Silvanus, and Sulpicius Camerinus: Read them at leisure. But I ask you first Whether there be not cause for discontent 2960 In present management? _Sen._ ’Tis a deep evil. But never was the empire better governed; Nor is there more extortion now, I think, Than ever was. _Ner._ And were there no extortion? _Sen._ Nay, while you farm the taxes there will be Extortion still. _Ner._ You all think that, my lords? _Sen._ Ay, ay. _Ner._ And so say I. You have my grounds. Now hear my scheme, by which for once and all I rid the empire of this blot. ’Tis this. I will have no more tolls or tallages, 2970 Customs or duties levied: nay, not one Through all the empire. I will make this present To the human race: I say, their old vexation And burden shall away. _TIGELLINUS._ Magnificent. _Sen._ ’Tis generously meant, most generously. But is it possible? _Ner._ Why not? _Sen._ The treasury, Eased of this sum, must fill the deficit By other means. If you cut off the customs, You must increase the tributes, rates, and rents. If one shoe pinches, ’tis no remedy 2980 To stuff both feet in the other. _Ner._ But my scheme Has precedent; there was no tallage taken Throughout all Italy for some six years Ere Julius. _Sen._ Ay, but he restored the customs As needful. _Ner._ Whence they seemed the price of empire. _Sen._ Unjustly. In the times of greatest liberty Consuls and tribunes have ordained new customs, Which yet remain. _Tig._ I praise the scheme. _Ner._ (_to Bur._) And you? _Bur._ Where look you then for revenue? _Ner._ The rents, We’ll have the rents. The land.... 2990 _Enter Messenger with Officer of the Guard._ Why, who is this? Whence come you, man? _MESSENGER._ Cæsar, from Anicetus. He asks great Cæsar’s pardon ere I tell. _Ner._ Thou’rt free to speak. _Mess._ There has an accident Befallen the Augusta’s yacht. _Ner._ Hey! what was that? _Mess._ At a lurch of the ship the awning fell and dragged The Augusta overboard. _Ner._ Speak, man, speak on. _Mess._ We thought her drowned.