THE EMPEROR'S NEW SUIT

                                  1872

                 FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

                         THE EMPEROR'S NEW SUIT

                       by Hans Christian Andersen



MANY, many years ago lived an emperor, who thought so much of

new clothes that he spent all his money in order to obtain them; his

only ambition was to be always well dressed. He did not care for his

soldiers, and the theatre did not amuse him; the only thing, in

fact, he thought anything of was to drive out and show a new suit of

clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day; and as one would say

of a king "He is in his cabinet," so one could say of him, "The

emperor is in his dressing-room."

The great city where he resided was very gay; every day many

strangers from all parts of the globe arrived. One day two swindlers

came to this city; they made people believe that they were weavers,

and declared they could manufacture the finest cloth to be imagined.

Their colours and patterns, they said, were not only exceptionally

beautiful, but the clothes made of their material possessed the

wonderful quality of being invisible to any man who was unfit for

his office or unpardonably stupid.

"That must be wonderful cloth," thought the emperor. "If I were to

be dressed in a suit made of this cloth I should be able to find out

which men in my empire were unfit for their places, and I could

distinguish the clever from the stupid. I must have this cloth woven

for me without delay." And he gave a large sum of money to the

swindlers, in advance, that they should set to work without any loss

of time. They set up two looms, and pretended to be very hard at work,

but they did nothing whatever on the looms. They asked for the

finest silk and the most precious gold-cloth; all they got they did

away with, and worked at the empty looms till late at night.

"I should very much like to know how they are getting on with

the cloth," thought the emperor. But he felt rather uneasy when he

remembered that he who was not fit for his office could not see it.

Personally, he was of opinion that he had nothing to fear, yet he

thought it advisable to send somebody else first to see how matters

stood. Everybody in the town knew what a remarkable quality the

stuff possessed, and all were anxious to see how bad or stupid their

neighbours were.

"I shall send my honest old minister to the weavers," thought

the emperor. "He can judge best how the stuff looks, for he is

intelligent, and nobody understands his office better than he."

The good old minister went into the room where the swindlers sat

before the empty looms. "Heaven preserve us!" he thought, and opened

his eyes wide, "I cannot see anything at all," but he did not say

so. Both swindlers requested him to come near, and asked him if he did

not admire the exquisite pattern and the beautiful colours, pointing

to the empty looms. The poor old minister tried his very best, but

he could see nothing, for there was nothing to be seen. "Oh dear,"

he thought, "can I be so stupid? I should never have thought so, and

nobody must know it! Is it possible that I am not fit for my office?

No, no, I cannot say that I was unable to see the cloth."

"Now, have you got nothing to say?" said one of the swindlers,

while he pretended to be busily weaving.

"Oh, it is very pretty, exceedingly beautiful," replied the old

minister looking through his glasses. "What a beautiful pattern,

what brilliant colours! I shall tell the emperor that I like the cloth

very much."

"We are pleased to hear that," said the two weavers, and described

to him the colours and explained the curious pattern. The old minister

listened attentively, that he might relate to the emperor what they

said; and so he did.

Now the swindlers asked for more money, silk and gold-cloth, which

they required for weaving. They kept everything for themselves, and

not a thread came near the loom, but they continued, as hitherto, to

work at the empty looms.

Soon afterwards the emperor sent another honest courtier to the

weavers to see how they were getting on, and if the cloth was nearly

finished. Like the old minister, he looked and looked but could see

nothing, as there was nothing to be seen.

"Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth?" asked the two swindlers,

showing and explaining the magnificent pattern, which, however, did

not exist.

"I am not stupid," said the man. "It is therefore my good

appointment for which I am not fit. It is very strange, but I must not

let any one know it;" and he praised the cloth, which he did not

see, and expressed his joy at the beautiful colours and the fine

pattern. "It is very excellent," he said to the emperor.

Everybody in the whole town talked about the precious cloth. At

last the emperor wished to see it himself, while it was still on the

loom. With a number of courtiers, including the two who had already

been there, he went to the two clever swindlers, who now worked as

hard as they could, but without using any thread.

"Is it not magnificent?" said the two old statesmen who had been

there before. "Your Majesty must admire the colours and the

pattern." And then they pointed to the empty looms, for they

imagined the others could see the cloth.

"What is this?" thought the emperor, "I do not see anything at

all. That is terrible! Am I stupid? Am I unfit to be emperor? That

would indeed be the most dreadful thing that could happen to me."

"Really," he said, turning to the weavers, "your cloth has our

most gracious approval;" and nodding contentedly he looked at the

empty loom, for he did not like to say that he saw nothing. All his

attendants, who were with him, looked and looked, and although they

could not see anything more than the others, they said, like the

emperor, "It is very beautiful." And all advised him to wear the new

magnificent clothes at a great procession which was soon to take

place. "It is magnificent, beautiful, excellent," one heard them

say; everybody seemed to be delighted, and the emperor appointed the

two swindlers "Imperial Court weavers."

The whole night previous to the day on which the procession was to

take place, the swindlers pretended to work, and burned more than

sixteen candles. People should see that they were busy to finish the

emperor's new suit. They pretended to take the cloth from the loom,

and worked about in the air with big scissors, and sewed with

needles without thread, and said at last: "The emperor's new suit is

ready now."

The emperor and all his barons then came to the hall; the

swindlers held their arms up as if they held something in their

hands and said: "These are the trousers!" "This is the coat!" and

"Here is the cloak!" and so on. "They are all as light as a cobweb,

and one must feel as if one had nothing at all upon the body; but that

is just the beauty of them."

"Indeed!" said all the courtiers; but they could not see anything,

for there was nothing to be seen.

"Does it please your Majesty now to graciously undress," said

the swindlers, "that we may assist your Majesty in putting on the

new suit before the large looking-glass?"

The emperor undressed, and the swindlers pretended to put the

new suit upon him, one piece after another; and the emperor looked

at himself in the glass from every side.

"How well they look! How well they fit!" said all. "What a

beautiful pattern! What fine colours! That is a magnificent suit of

clothes!"

The master of the ceremonies announced that the bearers of the

canopy, which was to be carried in the procession, were ready.

"I am ready," said the emperor. "Does not my suit fit me

marvellously?" Then he turned once more to the looking-glass, that

people should think he admired his garments.

The chamberlains, who were to carry the train, stretched their

hands to the ground as if they lifted up a train, and pretended to

hold something in their hands; they did not like people to know that

they could not see anything.

The emperor marched in the procession under the beautiful

canopy, and all who saw him in the street and out of the windows

exclaimed: "Indeed, the emperor's new suit is incomparable! What a

long train he has! How well it fits him!" Nobody wished to let

others know he saw nothing, for then he would have been unfit for

his office or too stupid. Never emperor's clothes were more admired.

"But he has nothing on at all," said a little child at last. "Good

heavens! listen to the voice of an innocent child," said the father,

and one whispered to the other what the child had said. "But he has

nothing on at all," cried at last the whole people. That made a deep

impression upon the emperor, for it seemed to him that they were

right; but he thought to himself, "Now I must bear up to the end." And

the chamberlains walked with still greater dignity, as if they carried

the train which did not exist.

                        THE END

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