The Great Banking Treasure, or How the State Declined to Plunder the Merchant's Purse

Pray, consider the plight of the modern banker—a gentleman whose love for gold is surpassed only by his horror at the thought of parting with a single farthing! There had been a most scandalous rumour, floating through the corridors of power like a foul fog over the Thames, suggesting that the State might impose a tax upon the 'excess profits' of these financial wizards.

One can almost imagine the scene: a trembling commercialist, clutching his promissory notes to his chest, fainting dead away at the mere mention of a new levy!

However, Mr. Anatoly Aksakov, a gentleman of some standing in the State Duma, has seen fit to quell this panic. With a wave of his hand, he declared that such a tax is simply not under consideration.

'Heaven forfend!' he seemed to imply. 'These banks are the very heart of our financial machinery. Should we strip them of their profits, where would the capital for our great economy be found? All is interconnected, like the gears of a Swiss watch!'

Indeed, even the formidable Mistress Nabiullina of the Central Bank has voiced her disapproval, suggesting that such a plunder would bring no benefit to the realm.

Now, the bean-counters and analysts—those wretched souls who live by the ledger—whispered that had this tax been enacted, the banks would have been forced to surrender some 270 billion roubles. A sum so vast it would make even the greediest usurer weep with joy! But alas for the public purse, the bankers shall keep their gold, and the State shall look elsewhere for its pittance.