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