The Emperor's New Clothes

Long ago, in a town of red roofs beside the cold blue sea, there lived an emperor who loved new clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day. He had a coat for breakfast and a coat for lunch. He had a coat just for looking out of the window. When people asked, "Where is the emperor?" the answer was always the same. "He is in his dressing room, trying on a coat!"

One morning, two strangers came to the palace gate. "We are weavers," they said, bowing very low. "We weave the finest cloth in the world. And it is magic cloth! Anyone who is silly, or not good at their work, cannot see it at all." "Magic cloth!" cried the emperor. "Make me a suit at once!" He gave them silk and gold thread. They hid it all in their bags, and they sat down at an empty loom.

Clickety-clack, went the empty loom. Clickety-clack, clickety-clack. The weavers wove all day with nothing at all. Soon the emperor sent his oldest minister to look. The old man put on his spectacles. He looked at the loom. He looked again. "Oh dear," he thought. "I see nothing! Am I silly? Nobody must ever know." So he smiled and he nodded. "What lovely colors," he said. And clickety-clack, went the empty loom.

At last the emperor came to see it for himself. All his lords and ladies came behind him. "Is it not beautiful?" said the weavers, holding up their empty hands. The emperor stared. He saw no cloth. He saw no thread. "Oh dear," he thought. "Am I silly? I am the emperor! Nobody must ever know." So he smiled. "Beautiful!" he said. "Beautiful!" said the lords. "Beautiful!" said the ladies. And not one of them could see a thing.

All night, the weavers snipped the air with their scissors. Snip, snip, cutting nothing. Stitch, stitch, sewing nothing. In the morning they lifted their arms, as if they held something very light. "Here are the trousers. Here is the coat. You will hardly feel it!" The emperor took off his blue velvet and stood in his long wool underwear. The weavers dressed him in nothing, button by button. Then they bowed, and they tiptoed out of the back door, and away over the hill.

Out into the sunshine walked the emperor, with his chin up and his crown on. The drums went rum-a-tum, rum-a-tum. The whole town stood and watched. Everyone had heard about the magic cloth, and nobody wanted to seem silly. "What a coat!" they called. "What a long, lovely cape!" Each one looked at the next one, and each one kept smiling. Rum-a-tum, went the drums. And still nobody would be the first to say a thing.

Then a small voice came from the front of the crowd. A little girl sat high on her father's shoulders, and she looked, and she looked. "But he is only wearing his underwear!" she said. The street went very quiet. "Did you hear her?" whispered her father. The whisper went along the street like wind through grass. "Only his underwear. Only his underwear!" The emperor looked down. There were his small wooden buttons. There were his own two knees.

His cheeks went pink. Then his shoulders began to shake. "Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the emperor. "So I am!" And all the town laughed with him, long and kindly. He bowed to the little girl. "Thank you," he said. "You told me the truth." That night he put on his old striped nightshirt, the soft one with a patch on the elbow. Everyone could see it. And it felt warm all around him. "This," he said with a yawn, "is the finest cloth in the world." Good night.