ny years ago there lived an Emperor who was so fond of new clothes
that he spent all his money on them in order to be beautifully
dressed. He did not care about his soldiers, he did not care about the
theatre; he only liked to go out walking to show off his new clothes.
He had a coat for every hour of the day; and just as they say of a
king, 'He is in the council-chamber,' they always said here, 'The
Emperor is in the wardrobe.'

In the great city in which he lived there was always something going
on; every day many strangers came there. One day two impostors arrived
who gave themselves out as weavers, and said that they knew how to
manufacture the most beautiful cloth imaginable. Not only were the
texture and pattern uncommonly beautiful, but the clothes which were
made of the stuff possessed this wonderful property that they were
invisible to anyone who was not fit for his office, or who was
unpardonably stupid.

'Those must indeed be splendid clothes,' thought the Emperor. 'If I
had them on I could find out which men in my kingdom are unfit for the
offices they hold; I could distinguish the wise from the stupid! Yes,
this cloth must be woven for me at once.' And he gave both the
impostors much money, so that they might begin their work.

They placed two weaving-looms, and began to do as if they were
working, but they had not the least thing on the looms. They also
demanded the finest silk and the best gold, which they put in their
pockets, and worked at the empty looms till late into the night.

[Footnote 4: Andersen.]

'I should like very much to know how far they have got on with the
cloth,' thought the Emperor. But he remembered when he thought about
it that whoever was stupid or not fit for his office would not be able
to see it. Now he certainly believed that he had nothing to fear for
himself, but he wanted first to send somebody else in order to see how
he stood with regard to his office. Everybody in the whole town knew
what a wonderful power the cloth had, and they were all curious to see
how bad or how stupid their neighbour was.

'I will send my old and honoured minister to the weavers,' thought the
Emperor. 'He can judge best what the cloth is like, for he has
intellect, and no one understands his office better than he.'

Now the good old minister went into the hall where the two impostors
sat working at the empty weaving-looms. 'Dear me!' thought the old
minister, opening his eyes wide, 'I can se