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The Emperor's New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen One day, two swindlers came to the great city where the Emperor lived. Knowing the Emperor's fondness for clothes, they pretended to be weavers and said they could make the finest cloth ever seen. Not only was it beautiful, but it was magical: The clothing made from this cloth was invisible to anyone who was either hopelessly stupid or else unfit for his job. "What splendid clothes!" thought the Emperor. "If I wear them, I can find out who is wise and who should be fired from his job. Yes, I must have the cloth woven for me!" So he paid the swindlers a large sum of money to begin their work at once.
The swindlers set up a loom, but they used no thread on their shuttles. They pretended to work at their empty loom far into the night. After a few days, the Emperor was eager to know how the cloth was coming along. "I shall send my faithful old minister. He is very smart, and no one is better at his job. Therefore he will be the best judge of the cloth."
"Oh, it is beautiful," the old minister said. "Charming! I shall tell the Emperor all about it." And the old minister listened carefully as the swindlers described the colors and patterns so he could repeat them to the Emperor - and he did. Soon the Emperor sent a second faithful minister to see when the new clothes would be ready. The second minister looked and looked, but he could see no cloth on the loom. "Isn't it splendid?" asked the swindlers. "Now, I know I am not stupid," thought the minister. "So it must be that I am unfit for my job. I must not let anyone find out!" So he praised the cloth he did not see. "Yes," he told the Emperor, "it is absolutely delightful!" Soon everyone in town was talking about the splendid new cloth. At last, the Emperor, accompanied by the two faithful ministers and his courtiers, went to visit the swindlers. "Isn't it beautiful, Your Majesty?" asked the ministers, pointing to the empty loom, for they thought all the others could see the cloth. "What is this?" thought the Emperor. "I see nothing at all! Am I stupid? Am I unfit to be Emperor? Why, this is terrible!" So he pretended to see the cloth and said, "Oh, it is very fine. It has my highest approval!" "Yes, it is very fine! Delightful! Superb!" exclaimed all the courtiers, though they saw nothing at all. And they told the Emperor that he should wear a suit of clothes made from this wonderful cloth at the next great procession.
When it was time for the Emperor to dress, the swindlers held up their empty arms, "See, Your Majesty," they exclaimed, "your beautiful new clothes are as light as cobwebs!"
And so the Emperor marched in his procession, and all who saw him cried out, "Look at the Emperor's beautiful new clothes. What a magnificent train! What a cloak!" They all pretended to see the garments that were not there, for they did not dare to appear stupid. None of the Emperor's clothes had ever been so successful. Then suddenly, a small child cried out, "But the Emperor has nothing on!" Those who heard the child began to whisper, and soon the whispers spread throughout the crowd: "He has nothing on- and innocent child says the Emperor has nothing on!" "The Emperor isn't wearing any clothes!" everyone cried at last. And the Emperor stiffened, foe he knew it was true. "Nonetheless," he thought, "the procession must go on." And so he continued to walk, holding himself more proudly than ever-while the chamberlains held up a train made of cloth that had never been there at all.
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Once
upon a time, there lived an emperor who was so fond of new clothes
that he spent all his money on them. He had a different coat for
every hour of the day, and whenever he was needed, he could always
be found in his dressing room.
So
the faithful old minister went to the hall where the swindlers sat
working at the empty loom. The old minister looked closely at the
loom. "Heaven help me!" he thought. "Why, I can't
see any cloth at all!" He stepped closer, "Can I be stupid?
Am I unfit for my job? If the Emperor finds out, he will surely
fire me!"
The
night before the procession, the swindlers worked all night. They
wanted everyone to see how anxious they were to finish the Emperor's
new clothes. They pretended to take the cloth down from the loom.
They cut the air with enormous scissors. They sewed with threadless
needles. And at last they proclaimed, "The Emperor's new clothes
are ready!"
round and round in front of the mirror as if he were admiring his
new suit. "How well His Majesty looks! What a fit! They're
the most splendid clothes!" everyone declared. The chamberlains,
who were supposed to carry the Emperor's train, stooped and pretended
to lift it. Then they walked along with their empty hands in the
air.