King’s New Clothes

The King’s New Clothes

Once upon a time, there was a king who was obsessed with his appearance. Rather than worrying about the finances of his kingdom, or training his soldiers for war, he instead spent hours dreaming about clothes. He spent all the kingdom’s spare income on new clothes, and his wardrobe was so big that it was practically another country in itself. He never visited the theatre or went hunting, except to show off a new outfit, and instead of the words ‘the King is in council,’ the phrase ‘the King is in his wardrobe’ was regularly heard.

So the people of the kingdom wore old dirty clothes, with no hope of comparing to the King’s fine outfits, the soldiers were left with sticks and rusty swords for weapons, and the King’s council did all the ruling for him. This worked out quite well, as the council knew far more about ruling a kingdom than the King had ever shown an interest in. Things ran smoothly, more or less, until one dark day…

A pair of brothers came to the castle, claiming to be skilful weavers. In fact, these men were no weavers, but tricksters. However, as soon as the King heard that there were weavers in the castle, he demanded to see them.

‘My dear king,’ said the first brother. ‘We have travelled through the whole country, and we have heard all sorts of stories about your fantastic outfits.’

‘You have?’ said the King, satisfied that his efforts were being seen. ‘How wonderful.’

‘We have a proposal,’ said the second brother. ‘We wish to weave you a beautiful outfit, so that your fame might spread not only to our kingdom, but to the whole world.’

‘The whole world!’ said the King. ‘Why, that would be a wonderful idea, wouldn’t it?’

He turned to his council, who seemed less thrilled by this idea.

‘If the other kings and queens hear that I have such an outfit, they will think we are rich, to spend money on such things. They will surely not attack us.’

‘It will not just be great!’ said the first brother. ‘It will be magical. We can weave a magic thread that is only visible to those who deserve to see it. Anyone who is stupid, or unfit for office, will not be able to see the thread.’

The King was delighted by this. What a brilliant idea! Not only would his outfit make him famous around the world, it would allow him to see which of his men were unfit for office, and distinguish between those who were wise and those who were foolish.

‘I will waste no time!’ said the King. ‘Tell me, what do you need to create this wonderful outfit?’

So the tricksters asked for two huge bags of silk and gold, and a room to work in. There, they set up two great looms, and got down to pretending to work. They did not put any silk or gold into the looms, instead hiding it in their own bags, but they moved their hands through the air as if they were preparing the looms. Then, they worked the machines, making a great deal of noise and capturing much of the castle’s attention, even though the looms were quite empty.

A few days later, the King wished to know how the two weavers were getting on. He had been inspired by his morning visit to his wardrobe. Amongst the rows of beautiful clothes, he found one outfit which was being eaten by moths. Furious, the King declared that all moths in the kingdom must be killed, and that anyone who failed to kill a moth would face death themselves.

After calming down, the King realised that there might not just be moths in his wardrobe, but ‘moths’ in his council as well—men who seemed good and wise, but in reality wereperson seemed to mention a different colour.

‘Yes, yes, you have done a most excellent job,’ said the King. ‘In fact, we must hold a parade! There, we will show off the new outfit, and afterwards you will be knighted.’

The tricksters’ mouths fell open.

‘What an honour, to be knighted!’ they cried. ‘Our king is too kind.’

The night before the parade, the weavers stayed up working, burning hundreds of candles and running the looms until their fingers bled. Then they pulled off the cloth, cut it with scissors and sewed it with needles, although of course all they were really doing was cutting and sewing air.

In the morning, the tricksters came before the King, holding up the pieces of invisible clothing one by one.

‘Here are your new trousers, my king!’ they said, and they helped the King into his invisible trousers.

‘Here is your new scarf, my king!’ they said, and they helped the King into his invisible scarf.

‘Here is your new cape, my king!’ they said, and they helped the King into his invisible cape.

‘The thread is so light that you will not even feel it,’ they explained.

‘Why, it is as light as air!’ the King cried.

The weavers took the King in front of a mirror, where he stood completely naked, but they looked him up and down as if examining a fine piece of clothing, commenting on how excellent he looked.

‘Ah, but there is one problem!’ said the tricksters. ‘Someone will need to carry your train.’

So the King ordered some of his men to stand behind him and carry his train, but of course they were just holding air.

The parade began, and all the people of the city pushed into the streets and leaned out of windows to see the King’s new clothes. Of course, there was really nothing to see, but nobody wanted to admit to being stupid or unfit for office, so the people cried out about how wonderful the King looked.

Finally, a young girl saw the King, and she could not understand what everyone was talking about.

‘But he’s naked!’ she said, pointing. ‘The King is naked!’

The little girl’s words spread like an illness, and like moths to a flame, the people all began to comment on the King’s new clothes, or rather, the lack of them.

Soon, comments turned to laughter, and people began to openly make fun of the King.

‘It does not matter,’ he thought to himself. ‘So the people of the city are stupid. What a surprise. I know I look excellent.’

When the parade was over, the King returned to his castle to find the weavers and knight them. But the two tricksters were nowhere to be found.

‘Hello? Where have those two gone?’

They had disappeared the moment the parade had started, taking all their silk and gold with them.

And so the King stood, naked, in the middle of his castle, never having felt so stupid in his life.

THE END