Read "The King's Clothes" by Koloman Mikszáth online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Chroniclers are sometimes mistaken. They tell us the story of King / Morus but they forget to state over what land he ruled. Yet this / does not have anything to do with the subject, because who believes / believes. I will relate it truthfully.[5]
One afternoon King Morus escaped from the duties of kingship, which / means that he signed some seventy documents, which the Minister read / to him in a sing-song voice. His Majesty closed his eyes and was kind / enough to listen to the unavoidable documents from end to end. There / were some appointments to make, a few death sentences, and other / similar trifles. He yawned only occasionally at the reading. "We have / finished," declared at length the Minister, putting the huge book of / papers under his arm and sticking the seal of the realm in his pocket.
"Wait a moment, Narciz," commanded the King. "Give me that little piece / of iron from your pocket, and stamp it upon one of these empty death / sentences, then hand it over and I will sign it."
"An empty death sentence, Your Majesty? " questioned the Minister / astonished.
"I'd like to know if you have anything against it? Perhaps it may occur / to you that you are my constitutional Minister and it is your business / to know what the seal is to be put upon. Narciz you are becoming / childish."
"O Your Majesty! -- Your Majesty -- what can you be thinking of? I am the / humble servant of the best of kings."
King Morus graciously patted old Narciz on the shoulders, then took the / paper and placed it in the inner pocket of his coat of gold.
"Now, Old Man, I have the genuine, constitutional feeling within me. By / Heaven, I have it, and I don't mind telling you -- _in confidence_ -- what / I am about to do with this death sentence."
"Most glorious King! " murmured Narciz.
"I am trying to win the favor of a very beautiful lady -- and she asked / me for this trifle. You see of course I couldn't refuse her a little / thing like this."
"Your Majesty is too gracious!"
"I am wise, Narciz! The pity is the poor woman has no power, but she / has a husband. I give her the power and she gets rid of the husband. / _Sh -- sh -- Narciz_ -- Not a word to any one -- "
"It is sweeter to kiss than to kill," flattered Narciz.
"Right you are, Old Man! I am going to carry this little piece of / paper to her now, because the favor of the King is a fruitful seed. / Write that sentence down in the Golden Book of the realm. Have you / already written down what I said yesterday about the reckoning of the / ground-rent?"
"Certainly, Your Majesty."
"Let me hear how it sounds."
The Minister opened the Golden Book and read the last lines: "A good / king is like a gardener who trims the trees often."
"Very well said," opined the king, putting on his fez. He walked to the / private garden by the shore of the sacred Nile, the garden which no one / was permitted to enter.
The servants and courtiers whom he met on the way bowed to the ground / as he passed. "We greet you, great King Morus."
His glowing, golden garments dazzled all eyes, and beneath his proud / step the earth trembled. The nightingale in the garden sang of love, as / if it divined the King's thoughts. The white lilies bowed their heads. / The roses strewed fragrant leaves across his path, and the azaleas / whispered a name -- not the name of the king -- but instead the name / Florilla, the enchanting woman who was step-daughter of Narciz. Within / the palace all were wondering where the King was going. The Minister / whispered to his son: "He is carrying someone's head in his pocket."