Post by Dale Malusi on Aug 13, 2017 9:41:59 GMT -5
Many years ago, there was an emperor, who was so excessively fond of new clothes, that he spent all his money on the finest suits.
He did not trouble himself in the least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go to the theater or out hunting, except when there was a chance to show off his new clothes.
He had a different suit for each hour of the day. Just as you might say of any other king or emperor, “He is sitting in his council,” people used to say of him, “He 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, came to the court. They said that they knew how to weave clothes of the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns. The clothes made from their cloths were like no others, for they were invisible to everyone who was either unfit for their job, or extremely simple in the head.
“These must, indeed, be splendid clothes!” Thought the emperor. “Had I such a suit, I might at once find out what men in my empire are unfit for their jobs, and also be able to tell the wise from the foolish! This stuff must be woven for me immediately.”.........................( to make a long story short)..........
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So now the emperor walked under his high canopy in the midst of the procession, through the streets of his capital. All the people standing by, and those at the windows, cried out, “Oh! How beautiful are our emperor’s clothes! What a magnificent train there is to the robes and how gracefully the scarf hangs!” In short, no one would allow that he could not see these much admired clothes – because, in doing so, he would have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit for his job. Certainly, none of the emperor’s various suits had ever made so great an impression as these invisible ones.
“But the emperor has nothing at all on!” Said a little child.
“Listen to the voice of innocence!” Exclaimed his father; and what the child had said was whispered from one to another.
“But he has nothing at all on!” At last cried out all the people. The emperor was suddenly embarrassed, for he knew that the people were right; but he thought the procession must go on now! And the lords of the bedchamber took greater pains than ever, to appear holding up the robes although, in reality, there were no robes at all.
And that’s the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen.
