The Emperor's New Clothes

Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of new clothes, that he spent all his money in dress. He did not trouble himself in the least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go either to the theatre or the chase, except for the opportunities then afforded him for displaying his new clothes. He had a different suit for each hour of the day; and as of any other king or emperor, one is accustomed to say, “he is sitting in council,” it was always said of him, “The Emperor is sitting in his wardrobe.”

Many years ago, an Emperor loved new clothes so much that he spent all his money on them. He cared nothing about his soldiers. He cared about going to the theater or hunting only because these outings gave him a chance to show off his new clothes. He had a different suit for every hour of the day. People usually said of other kings and emperors, “he is sitting in council.” But of him, they always said, “The Emperor is sitting in his wardrobe.”

Time passed merrily in the large town which was his capital; strangers arrived every day at the court. One day, two rogues, calling themselves weavers, made their appearance. They gave out that they knew how to weave stuffs of the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns, the clothes manufactured from which should have the wonderful property of remaining invisible to everyone who was unfit for the office he held, or who was extraordinarily simple in character.

Time passed merrily in the large town that was his capital. Strangers arrived at the court every day. One day, two rogues appeared, claiming to be weavers. They said they could weave fabrics with the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns. Clothes made from these fabrics, they claimed, had a remarkable quality. They were invisible to anyone unfit for the position they held or exceptionally foolish.

“These must, indeed, be splendid clothes!” thought the Emperor. “Had I such a suit, I might at once find out what men in my realms are unfit for their office, and also be able to distinguish the wise from the foolish! This stuff must be woven for me immediately.” And he caused large sums of money to be given to both the weavers in order that they might begin their work directly.

“These must be splendid clothes!” thought the Emperor. “If I had a suit like that, I could immediately find out which men in my kingdom are unfit for office. I could also tell the wise from the foolish! This cloth must be woven for me immediately.” He gave both weavers large sums of money so they could begin work right away.

So the two pretended weavers set up two looms, and affected to work very busily, though in reality they did nothing at all. They asked for the most delicate silk and the purest gold thread; put both into their own knapsacks; and then continued their pretended work at the empty looms until late at night.

So the two fake weavers set up two looms and pretended to work hard, though they did nothing at all. They asked for the finest silk and the purest gold thread and put both in their own bags. Then they continued pretending to work at the empty looms until late at night.

“I should like to know how the weavers are getting on with my cloth,” said the Emperor to himself, after some little time had elapsed; he was, however, rather embarrassed, when he remembered that a simpleton, or one unfit for his office, would be unable to see the manufacture. To be sure, he thought he had nothing to risk in his own person; but yet, he would prefer sending somebody else, to bring him intelligence about the weavers, and their work, before he troubled himself in the affair. All the people throughout the city had heard of the wonderful property the cloth was to possess; and all were anxious to learn how wise, or how ignorant, their neighbors might prove to be.

“I’d like to know how the weavers are getting on with my cloth,” the Emperor said to himself some time later. But he felt uneasy when he remembered that a fool or anyone unfit for his office would be unable to see the cloth. Of course, he thought he had nothing to fear for himself. Even so, he preferred to send someone else to report on the weavers and their work before getting involved himself. All the people throughout the city had heard about the wonderful quality the cloth was supposed to have. All were eager to learn how wise or ignorant their neighbors might turn out to be.

“I will send my faithful old minister to the weavers,” said the Emperor at last, after some deliberation, “he will be best able to see how the cloth looks; for he is a man of sense, and no one can be more suitable for his office than he is.”

“I will send my faithful old minister to the weavers,” the Emperor said at last, after thinking it over. “He will be best able to see what the cloth looks like. He is a sensible man, and no one could be better suited to his office.”

So the faithful old minister went into the hall, where the knaves were working with all their might, at their empty looms. “What can be the meaning of this?” thought the old man, opening his eyes very wide. “I cannot discover the least bit of thread on the looms.” However, he did not express his thoughts aloud.

So the faithful old minister went into the hall, where the swindlers were working as hard as they could at their empty looms. “What can this mean?” the old man thought, opening his eyes wide. “I cannot see even the smallest bit of thread on the looms.” But he did not say what he was thinking aloud.

The impostors requested him very courteously to be so good as to come nearer their looms; and then asked him whether the design pleased him, and whether the colors were not very beautiful; at the same time pointing to the empty frames. The poor old minister looked and looked, he could not discover anything on the looms, for a very good reason, viz: there was nothing there. “What!” thought he again. “Is it possible that I am a simpleton? I have never thought so myself; and no one must know it now if I am so. Can it be, that I am unfit for my office? No, that must not be said either. I will never confess that I could not see the stuff.”

The impostors politely asked him to come closer to their looms. Then they pointed to the empty frames and asked whether he liked the design and thought the colors were beautiful. The poor old minister looked and looked, but he could not see anything on the looms. There was a very good reason for that: nothing was there. “What!” he thought again. “Could I be a fool? I have never thought so myself, and if I am one, no one must find out now. Could I be unfit for my job? No, that must not be said either. I will never admit that I could not see the cloth.”

“Well, Sir Minister!” said one of the knaves, still pretending to work. “You do not say whether the stuff pleases you.”

“Well, Minister!” said one of the swindlers, still pretending to work. “You haven’t said whether you like the fabric.”

“Oh, it is excellent!” replied the old minister, looking at the loom through his spectacles. “This pattern, and the colors, yes, I will tell the Emperor without delay, how very beautiful I think them.”

“Oh, it is excellent!” replied the old minister, looking at the loom through his glasses. “The pattern and the colors are beautiful. Yes, I will tell the Emperor right away how beautiful I think they are.”

“We shall be much obliged to you,” said the impostors, and then they named the different colors and described the pattern of the pretended stuff. The old minister listened attentively to their words, in order that he might repeat them to the Emperor; and then the knaves asked for more silk and gold, saying that it was necessary to complete what they had begun. However, they put all that was given them into their knapsacks; and continued to work with as much apparent diligence as before at their empty looms.

“We would be very grateful,” said the impostors. Then they named the different colors and described the pattern of the pretend fabric. The old minister listened carefully so he could repeat their words to the Emperor. Then the impostors asked for more silk and gold, saying they needed them to finish what they had begun. But they put everything they were given into their bags. They continued to work at their empty looms, seeming just as diligent as before.

The Emperor now sent another officer of his court to see how the men were getting on, and to ascertain whether the cloth would soon be ready. It was just the same with this gentleman as with the minister; he surveyed the looms on all sides, but could see nothing at all but the empty frames.

The Emperor sent another court officer to see how the men were getting on and whether the cloth would soon be ready. The officer had the same experience as the minister. He examined the looms from every side, but could see nothing at all except the empty frames.

“Does not the stuff appear as beautiful to you, as it did to my lord the minister?” asked the impostors of the Emperor's second ambassador; at the same time making the same gestures as before, and talking of the design and colors which were not there.

“Does the fabric look as beautiful to you as it did to the minister?” the impostors asked the Emperor's second ambassador. As before, they made gestures and talked about the design and colors that were not there.

“I certainly am not stupid!” thought the messenger. “It must be, that I am not fit for my good, profitable office! That is very odd; however, no one shall know anything about it.” And accordingly he praised the stuff he could not see, and declared that he was delighted with both colors and patterns. “Indeed, please your Imperial Majesty,” said he to his sovereign when he returned, “the cloth which the weavers are preparing is extraordinarily magnificent.”

“I certainly am not stupid!” thought the messenger. “I must be unfit for my good, profitable job! That is very odd. But no one shall know anything about it.” So he praised the cloth he could not see and said he was delighted with its colors and patterns. When he returned to his sovereign, he said, “Your Imperial Majesty, the cloth the weavers are making is extraordinarily magnificent.”

The whole city was talking of the splendid cloth which the Emperor had ordered to be woven at his own expense.

The whole city was talking about the splendid cloth the Emperor had ordered to be woven at his own expense.

And now the Emperor himself wished to see the costly manufacture, while it was still in the loom. Accompanied by a select number of officers of the court, among whom were the two honest men who had already admired the cloth, he went to the crafty impostors, who, as soon as they were aware of the Emperor's approach, went on working more diligently than ever; although they still did not pass a single thread through the looms.

Now the Emperor himself wanted to see the costly cloth while it was still on the loom. He went to the crafty impostors, accompanied by a select group of court officers. Among them were the two honest men who had already admired the cloth. As soon as the impostors saw the Emperor approaching, they worked harder than ever. But they still did not pass a single thread through the looms.

“Is not the work absolutely magnificent?” said the two officers of the crown, already mentioned. “If your Majesty will only be pleased to look at it! What a splendid design! What glorious colors!” and at the same time they pointed to the empty frames; for they imagined that everyone else could see this exquisite piece of workmanship.

“Isn’t the work absolutely magnificent?” said the two officers of the crown mentioned earlier. “If your Majesty would only look at it! What a splendid design! What glorious colors!” As they spoke, they pointed to the empty frames. They did this because they imagined that everyone else could see the exquisite work.

“How is this?” said the Emperor to himself. “I can see nothing! This is indeed a terrible affair! Am I a simpleton, or am I unfit to be an Emperor? That would be the worst thing that could happen—Oh! the cloth is charming,” said he, aloud. “It has my complete approbation.” And he smiled most graciously, and looked closely at the empty looms; for on no account would he say that he could not see what two of the officers of his court had praised so much. All his retinue now strained their eyes, hoping to discover something on the looms, but they could see no more than the others; nevertheless, they all exclaimed, “Oh, how beautiful!” and advised his majesty to have some new clothes made from this splendid material, for the approaching procession. “Magnificent! Charming! Excellent!” resounded on all sides; and everyone was uncommonly gay. The Emperor shared in the general satisfaction; and presented the impostors with the riband of an order of knighthood, to be worn in their button-holes, and the title of “Gentlemen Weavers.”

“How can this be?” the Emperor thought. “I can see nothing! This is terrible! Am I a fool, or am I unfit to be Emperor? That would be the worst thing that could happen. Oh! The cloth is charming,” he said aloud. “I completely approve of it.” He smiled graciously and looked closely at the empty looms. He would never admit that he could not see what two of his court officers had praised so highly. All his attendants strained their eyes, hoping to see something on the looms. But they could see no more than the others. Nevertheless, they all exclaimed, “Oh, how beautiful!” They advised His Majesty to have new clothes made from this splendid material for the approaching procession. “Magnificent! Charming! Excellent!” people called out from all sides. Everyone was unusually cheerful. The Emperor shared their satisfaction. He gave the impostors the ribbon of an order of knighthood to wear in their buttonholes. He also gave them the title of “Gentlemen Weavers.”

The rogues sat up the whole of the night before the day on which the procession was to take place, and had sixteen lights burning, so that everyone might see how anxious they were to finish the Emperor's new suit. They pretended to roll the cloth off the looms; cut the air with their scissors; and sewed with needles without any thread in them. “See!” cried they, at last. “The Emperor's new clothes are ready!”

The swindlers stayed up all night before the day of the procession. They kept sixteen lights burning so everyone could see how eager they were to finish the Emperor's new suit. They pretended to roll the cloth off the looms, cut the air with their scissors, and sew with needles that had no thread. “Look!” they cried at last. “The Emperor's new clothes are ready!”

And now the Emperor, with all the grandees of his court, came to the weavers; and the rogues raised their arms, as if in the act of holding something up, saying, “Here are your Majesty's trousers! Here is the scarf! Here is the mantle! The whole suit is as light as a cobweb; one might fancy one has nothing at all on, when dressed in it; that, however, is the great virtue of this delicate cloth.”

The Emperor came to the weavers with all the nobles of his court. The swindlers raised their arms as if holding something up. “Here are your Majesty's trousers! Here is the scarf! Here is the cloak! The whole suit is as light as a cobweb. When wearing it, you might imagine you have nothing on at all. That, however, is the great virtue of this delicate cloth.”

“Yes indeed!” said all the courtiers, although not one of them could see anything of this exquisite manufacture.

“Yes, indeed!” said all the courtiers, although not one of them could see any of the beautiful fabric.

“If your Imperial Majesty will be graciously pleased to take off your clothes, we will fit on the new suit, in front of the looking glass.”

“Your Imperial Majesty, if you would please take off your clothes, we will fit you in the new suit in front of the mirror.”

The Emperor was accordingly undressed, and the rogues pretended to array him in his new suit; the Emperor turning round, from side to side, before the looking glass.

So the Emperor undressed, and the rogues pretended to dress him in his new suit. The Emperor turned from side to side in front of the mirror.

“How splendid his Majesty looks in his new clothes, and how well they fit!” everyone cried out. “What a design! What colors! These are indeed royal robes!”

“How wonderful his Majesty looks in his new clothes, and how well they fit!” everyone cried. “What a design! What colors! These are truly royal robes!”

“The canopy which is to be borne over your Majesty, in the procession, is waiting,” announced the chief master of the ceremonies.

“The canopy to be carried over your Majesty during the procession is ready,” announced the chief master of ceremonies.

“I am quite ready,” answered the Emperor. “Do my new clothes fit well?” asked he, turning himself round again before the looking glass, in order that he might appear to be examining his handsome suit.

“I’m quite ready,” the Emperor answered. “Do my new clothes fit well?” he asked, turning around again in front of the mirror. He wanted to appear to be examining his handsome suit.

The lords of the bedchamber, who were to carry his Majesty's train felt about on the ground, as if they were lifting up the ends of the mantle; and pretended to be carrying something; for they would by no means betray anything like simplicity, or unfitness for their office.

The lords of the bedchamber were supposed to carry the emperor's train. They felt around on the ground as if lifting the ends of his cloak, and pretended to carry something. They did not want to appear foolish or unfit for their duties.

So now the Emperor walked under his high canopy in the midst of the procession, through the streets of his capital; and all the people standing by, and those at the windows, cried out, “Oh! How beautiful are our Emperor's new clothes! What a magnificent train there is to the mantle; and how gracefully the scarf hangs!” in short, no one would allow that he could not see these much-admired clothes; because, in doing so, he would have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit for his office. Certainly, none of the Emperor's various suits, had ever made so great an impression, as these invisible ones.

The Emperor now walked beneath his high canopy in the middle of the procession, through the streets of his capital. All the people standing by and those at the windows cried out, “Oh! How beautiful the Emperor's new clothes are! What a magnificent train on his cloak, and how gracefully the scarf hangs!” In short, no one would admit that he could not see the much-admired clothes. To do so would mean declaring himself either a fool or unfit for his office. Certainly, none of the Emperor's other suits had ever made such an impression as these invisible ones.

“But the Emperor has nothing at all on!” said a little child.

“But the Emperor isn't wearing anything at all!” said a little child.

“Listen to the voice of innocence!” exclaimed his father; and what the child had said was whispered from one to another.

“Listen to the voice of innocence!” his father exclaimed. And what the child had said was whispered from person to person.

“But he has nothing at all on!” at last cried out all the people. The Emperor was vexed, for he knew that the people were right; but he thought the procession must go on now! And the lords of the bedchamber took greater pains than ever, to appear holding up a train, although, in reality, there was no train to hold.

“But he has nothing on at all!” all the people finally cried. The Emperor was upset because he knew the people were right. But he thought the procession had to go on now! And the lords of the bedchamber tried harder than ever to look as if they were holding up a train. In reality, though, there was no train to hold.