Arangbar translated to the artist, who replied quickly in Persian, casting a quick, contemptuous glance at Hawksworth.
"He declares he could easily duplicate this simple portrait of your king, in a likeness so exact you could not tell his copy from the original."
"Such a thing is not possible, Your Majesty. No man in the world could execute this exact painting, save the man who first put in on paper."
Arangbar again translated for his painter, who replied animatedly.
"My Chief Painter says he and his workshop could easily
produce four copies of this, any one of which would pass for the original."
"May it please Your Majesty, I say it is impossible. European painting is a centuries' old tradition, requiring years of apprenticeship and study."
The men around Hawksworth had begun to shift uncomfortably. The Moghul was never contradicted. Yet he seemed to relish the dispute.
"Then we'll set a wager. What will you wager me, Ambassador, that I can make this one painting of your king into five?"
"I know not what to lay with so great a prince, nor does it befit me to name a sum to Your Majesty." Hawksworth shifted uneasily, unsure of the protocol of betting with kings.