"It is said he drinks often, Your Majesty, though many declare it is more out of custom than delight. He drinks strong liquors--Frontiniack, Canary, High Canary wine, Tent wine, Scottish ale--but never, it's said, more than a few spoonfuls." "Then he could never drink with the Moghul of India, Ambassador. We have twenty cups of wine a night. And twelve grains of opium." Arangbar paused as he accepted yet another glass. His voice had begun to slur slightly. "But perhaps your king can trade with me. When will the ships from your king's next voyage arrive? And how many of your king's frigates will we see yearly if we grant him the trading _firman _he requests?" Hawksworth noticed out of the corner of his eye that Nadir Sharif had now moved directly beside him. The prime minister held a glass of wine from which he sipped delicately. Around him the other courtiers were already drinking heavily, to the obvious approval of Arangbar. He'll not finish a single glass of wine, if my guess is right. Nadir Sharif'll find a way to stay stone sober while the rest of the room sinks into its cups. And they'll all be too drunk to notice. "King James will one day send an armada of frigates, Your Majesty." Keep Arangbar's mind off the next voyage. He just may try to hold you here until it comes, or refuse to grant a _firman _until he sees the next batch of presents. "His Majesty, King James, is always eager to trade the seas where his ships are welcome." "Even if other nations of Europe would quarrel with his rights to those seas?" "England has no quarrels in Europe, Your Majesty. If you refer to the engagement off Surat, you should know that was caused by a misunderstanding of the treaties that now exist in Europe. England is at peace with all her neighbors." A skeptical silence seemed to envelop the room. Arangbar took another cup of wine and drank it off. Then he turned to Hawksworth. "The matter, Ambassador Inglish, does not seem to us to be that simple. But we will examine it more later. Nights are made for beauty, days for affairs of state." Arangbar's voice had begun to slur even more noticeably. "You may have heard there will be a wedding here soon. My youngest prince is betrothed to the daughter of my queen. The wedding will be held one month after my own birthday celebration, and it will be an event to remember. Tonight I begin the always-pleasant task of selecting the women who will dance. Do you know anything of Indian dance?" "Very little, Your Majesty. I have only seen it once. In Surat. At a gathering one evening at the palace of the Shahbandar." Arangbar roared and seized another glass of wine. "I can well imagine the kind of entertainment the Shahbandar of Surat provides for his guests. No, Ambassador, I mean the real dance of India. The dance of great artists? Perhaps you have classical dance in England?" "No, Your Majesty. We have nothing similar. At least similar to the dance I saw."