"How well his Majesty looks in his new clothes!" said the people. "How becoming they are! What a pattern! What colors! It is a beautiful dress!"
"They are waiting outside with the canopy which is to be carried over your Majesty in the procession," said the master of ceremonies.
"I am ready," said the Emperor. "Don't the clothes fit well?" he asked, giving a last glance into the mirror as though he were looking at all his new finery.
The men who were to carry the train of the Emperor's cloak stooped down to the floor as if picking up the train, and then held it high in the air. They did not dare let it be known that they could see nothing.
So the Emperor marched along under the bright canopy. Everybody in the streets and at the windows cried out: "How beautiful the Emperor's new clothes are! What a fine train! And they fit to perfection!"
No one would let it be known that he could see nothing, for that would have proved that he was unfit for office or that he was very, very stupid. None of the Emperor's clothes had ever been as successful as these.
"But he has nothing on!" said a little child.
"Just listen to the innocent!" said its father.
But one person whispered to another what the child had said. "He has nothing on! A child says he has nothing on!"
"But he has nothing on!" at last cried all the people.