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."

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 wonderful property of
remaining invisible to everyone who was unfit for the office he held, or
who was extraordinarily simple in character.

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.

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.

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 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."

So the faithful 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