“Is not the work absolutely magnificent?” said the two officers of the crown, already mentioned.  “If your Majesty will only be pleased to look at it!  What a splendid design!  What glorious colors!” and at the same time they pointed to the empty frames; for they imagined that everyone else could see this exquisite piece of workmanship.

“How is this?” said the Emperor to himself.  “I can see nothing!  This is indeed a terrible affair!  Am I a simpleton, or am I unfit to be an Emperor?  That would be the worst thing that could happen—­Oh! the cloth is charming,” said he, aloud.  “It has my complete approbation.”  And he smiled most graciously, and looked closely at the empty looms; for on no account would he say that he could not see what two of the officers of his court had praised so much.  All his retinue now strained their eyes, hoping to discover something on the looms, but they could see no more than the others; nevertheless, they all exclaimed, “Oh, how beautiful!” and advised his majesty to have some new clothes made from this splendid material, for the approaching procession.  “Magnificent!  Charming!  Excellent!” resounded on all sides; and everyone was uncommonly gay.  The Emperor shared in the general satisfaction; and presented the impostors with the riband of an order of knighthood, to be worn in their button-holes, and the title of “Gentlemen Weavers.”

The rogues sat up the whole of the night before the day on which the procession was to take place, and had sixteen lights burning, so that everyone might see how anxious they were to finish the Emperor’s new suit.  They pretended to roll the cloth off the looms; cut the air with their scissors; and sewed with needles without any thread in them.  “See!” cried they, at last.  “The Emperor’s new clothes are ready!”

And now the Emperor, with all the grandees of his court, came to the weavers; and the rogues raised their arms, as if in the act of holding something up, saying, “Here are your Majesty’s trousers!  Here is the scarf!  Here is the mantle!  The whole suit is as light as a cobweb; one might fancy one has nothing at all on, when dressed in it; that, however, is the great virtue of this delicate cloth.”

“Yes indeed!” said all the courtiers, although not one of them could see anything of this exquisite manufacture.

“If your Imperial Majesty will be graciously pleased to take off your clothes, we will fit on the new suit, in front of the looking glass.”

The Emperor was accordingly undressed, and the rogues pretended to array him in his new suit; the Emperor turning round, from side to side, before the looking glass.

“How splendid his Majesty looks in his new clothes, and how well they fit!” everyone cried out.  “What a design!  What colors!  These are indeed royal robes!”

“The canopy which is to be borne over your Majesty, in the procession, is waiting,” announced the chief master of the ceremonies.