conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a story titled The Secret History about Powerful, Enthralling, York with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Literary.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: &#8220;Powerful... Enthralling... A ferociously well-paced entertainment.&#8221; (New York Times)
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first three paragraphs for this story.. End with the sentence ' So much for that.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Secret History
  Directly as Justinian took over the Empire he established official customs houses on both straits and regularly sent out two salaried officers. He arranged for the salaries to be paid to them, it is true, but he impressed on them that they must use every endeavour to see that he received as much money as possible from their operations. The officers, having no other ambition than to convince him of the strength of their loyalty to him, forced the seamen to hand over the entire cash value of their cargoes.
  That was the course he followed at both straits. And in Byzantium he thought out the following scheme. He created a special post for one of his closest friends, a Syrian by birth named Addaeus: he was to secure a little profit from the ships that put in there and pass it on to his master. From then on Addaeus never allowed any vessel that put in to the harbour of Byzantium to weigh anchor again but either mulcted the shipmasters of the value of their own ships or forced them to return to Libya or Italy. Some of them declined either to accept a return cargo or to go on seafaring any more: they preferred to burn their boats and wash their hands of the whole business. There were some, however, who were unable to earn their living in any other way: their answer was to treble their charges to the importers and take on cargoes as before. The only course left to the importing merchants was to recoup their own losses at the expense of those who purchased the cargoes. Thus everything possible was being done to kill off the Romans by starvation.
  The importers who had hitherto been occupied with this trade in Byzantium and all the other cities, whether operating on the sea or on land, naturally had to endure the hardships resulting from these operations. And in the cities referred to almost the entire population suddenly found themselves beggars. For the mechanics and craftsmen were inevitably compelled to struggle against starvation, and many in consequence abandoned the state to which they belonged and fled for refuge to the land of Persia. Year after year the whole profit from this trade came into the hands of one man, the magistrate in charge of finances, who as we have said was good enough to hand a portion of his receipts from this source back to the Emperor but secured the bulk for himself and grew rich at the cost of public misery. So much for that.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: As chief priest of Alexandria he nominated a man called Paul. It happened that one Rhodon, Phoenician by birth, was at that time Governor of Alexandria, and the Emperor instructed him to assist Paul in all his undertakings to the limit of his power, so that not a single order issued by him might remain unfulfilled. By this means he thought he would be able to persuade the priests of the Alexandrians to adhere to the Council of Chalcedon. There was a native of Palestine, by name Arsenius, who had been useful to the Empress Theodora in the most important matters, and had thereby made himself very powerful and extremely rich, though his character was of the basest. This man was a Samaritan, but to avoid losing the power he now held he had to call himself a Christian. His father and brother, on the other hand, putting their trust in his power, had remained at Scythopolis, clinging to their ancestral religion and at his suggestion treating all Christians with shocking cruelty. As a result the inhabitants of the city revolted against them and put them both to the most miserable death, causing a train of disasters to befall the people of Palestine. At the same time he met with no retribution at the hands of either Justinian or Theodora, although he was fully responsible for all these troubles, but they forbade him to come to the Palace any more, for the stream of protests by the Christians about his behaviour left them no peace.
  There was a certain Faustinus, a native of Palestine. He was a Samaritan by descent but had become a nominal Christian under pressure from the law. This Faustinus had attained the rank of senator and had become governor of the region, but he was soon removed from office and proceeded to Byzantium, where some of the priests denounced him, alleging that he had treated the Christians resident in Palestine atrociously. Justinian appeared to be very angry and highly indignant at the thought that while he was ruling over the Roman Empire the name of Christ should be insulted by anyone. So the Senate inquired into the matter and under heavy pressure from the Emperor sentenced Faustinus to exile. But as soon as the Emperor had got out of him all the money that he wanted, he rescinded the judgement. Faustinus, restored to his former dignities, was on easy terms with the Emperor, who appointed him overseer of the imperial estates in Palestine and Phoenicia. There he was able to do whatever he liked with no fear now for the consequences. Of the methods, then, by which Justinian chose to defend the claims of the Christians we have not said very much: but even from this brief account it will be easy to draw a conclusion. Now it will be revealed as succinctly as possible how, without any hesitation, he trampled on the laws when money was in question.
  This constant and daily interference with the laws of the Romans was not all that the Emperor did: he also did his best to abolish the laws reverenced by the Hebrews. Whenever the returning months happened to bring the Passover feast before that kept by the Christians, he would not permit the Jews to celebrate this at the proper time, nor to offer anything to God at this feast, nor to perform any of their customary ceremonies. Many of them were brought to trial by those appointed governors and charged with an offence against the laws of the state, in that they had eaten lamb at this period. They were then sentenced to pay heavy fines. Justinian was guilty of innumerable other acts of this type: but though I know all about them, I shall not include any of them in this narrative, which must shortly be brought to an end. The incidents already recorded will suffice to reveal the man's character only too clearly.
  But John had an uncle in Byzantium called Eudaemon, who had attained the rank of consul and had made a great deal of money, becoming for a time overseer of the private imperial estates. When Eudaemon heard the story, he in turn asked the Emperor whether his nephew had been definitely appointed to the governorship. Justinian, denying all knowledge of the letter he had written to Liberius, wrote a letter to John instructing him to take possession of his office and to brook no interference: he himself had no second thoughts about the matter. Taking these statements at their face value, John ordered Liberius to vacate his official quarters, as he had been relieved of his post. Liberius emphatically refused to accept his orders, he too relying of course on the letter he had received from the Emperor. John then armed his followers and went for Liberius, and Liberius with his own entourage took steps to defend himself. And a fight ensued and many lost their lives, including John himself, the holder of the office.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: As chief priest of Alexandria he nominated a man called Paul. It happened that one Rhodon, Phoenician by birth, was at that time Governor of Alexandria, and the Emperor instructed him to assist Paul in all his undertakings to the limit of his power, so that not a single order issued by him might remain unfulfilled. By this means he thought he would be able to persuade the priests of the Alexandrians to adhere to the Council of Chalcedon. There was a native of Palestine, by name Arsenius, who had been useful to the Empress Theodora in the most important matters, and had thereby made himself very powerful and extremely rich, though his character was of the basest. This man was a Samaritan, but to avoid losing the power he now held he had to call himself a Christian. His father and brother, on the other hand, putting their trust in his power, had remained at Scythopolis, clinging to their ancestral religion and at his suggestion treating all Christians with shocking cruelty. As a result the inhabitants of the city revolted against them and put them both to the most miserable death, causing a train of disasters to befall the people of Palestine. At the same time he met with no retribution at the hands of either Justinian or Theodora, although he was fully responsible for all these troubles, but they forbade him to come to the Palace any more, for the stream of protests by the Christians about his behaviour left them no peace.
  There was a certain Faustinus, a native of Palestine. He was a Samaritan by descent but had become a nominal Christian under pressure from the law. This Faustinus had attained the rank of senator and had become governor of the region, but he was soon removed from office and proceeded to Byzantium, where some of the priests denounced him, alleging that he had treated the Christians resident in Palestine atrociously. Justinian appeared to be very angry and highly indignant at the thought that while he was ruling over the Roman Empire the name of Christ should be insulted by anyone. So the Senate inquired into the matter and under heavy pressure from the Emperor sentenced Faustinus to exile. But as soon as the Emperor had got out of him all the money that he wanted, he rescinded the judgement. Faustinus, restored to his former dignities, was on easy terms with the Emperor, who appointed him overseer of the imperial estates in Palestine and Phoenicia. There he was able to do whatever he liked with no fear now for the consequences. Of the methods, then, by which Justinian chose to defend the claims of the Christians we have not said very much: but even from this brief account it will be easy to draw a conclusion. Now it will be revealed as succinctly as possible how, without any hesitation, he trampled on the laws when money was in question.
  This constant and daily interference with the laws of the Romans was not all that the Emperor did: he also did his best to abolish the laws reverenced by the Hebrews. Whenever the returning months happened to bring the Passover feast before that kept by the Christians, he would not permit the Jews to celebrate this at the proper time, nor to offer anything to God at this feast, nor to perform any of their customary ceremonies. Many of them were brought to trial by those appointed governors and charged with an offence against the laws of the state, in that they had eaten lamb at this period. They were then sentenced to pay heavy fines. Justinian was guilty of innumerable other acts of this type: but though I know all about them, I shall not include any of them in this narrative, which must shortly be brought to an end. The incidents already recorded will suffice to reveal the man's character only too clearly.
  But John had an uncle in Byzantium called Eudaemon, who had attained the rank of consul and had made a great deal of money, becoming for a time overseer of the private imperial estates. When Eudaemon heard the story, he in turn asked the Emperor whether his nephew had been definitely appointed to the governorship. Justinian, denying all knowledge of the letter he had written to Liberius, wrote a letter to John instructing him to take possession of his office and to brook no interference: he himself had no second thoughts about the matter. Taking these statements at their face value, John ordered Liberius to vacate his official quarters, as he had been relieved of his post. Liberius emphatically refused to accept his orders, he too relying of course on the letter he had received from the Emperor. John then armed his followers and went for Liberius, and Liberius with his own entourage took steps to defend himself.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: But that was not the limit of his folly. For a very long time the state had regularly maintained great numbers of camels, which followed the Roman army as it advanced towards an enemy and carried everything the army required. There was no compulsion on the land-labourers to provide corvée services, nor did the soldiers ever go short of necessities. But Justinian did away with nearly all of these too. Consequently when the Roman army of today advances against the enemy, its movements are severely restricted.
  Among the innovations which Justinian and Theodora made in the conduct of government are the following. In previous reigns, when the Senate came into the Emperor's presence it was customary to do obeisance in this way. A man of Patrician rank used to salute him on the right breast: the Emperor responded by kissing him on the head and then dismissed him. Everyone else bent his right knee to the Emperor and then retired. To the Empress, however, obeisance was never paid. But when they came into the presence of Justinian and Theodora, all of them, including those who held Patrician rank, had to fall on the floor flat on their faces, stretch out their hands and feet as far as they could, touch with their lips one foot of each of the imperial pair and then stand up again. For Theodora too was disinclined to forego this sign of esteem, and even claimed the privilege of receiving the ambassadors of the Persians and of the other barbarians, and of bestowing gifts of money on them, as if the Roman Empire lay subject to her – a thing unprecedented in the whole course of history.
  Again, in the past persons engaged in conversations with the Emperor called him 'Emperor' and his wife 'Empress', and addressed each of the officials by the title appropriate to the rank he held at the moment; but if anyone were to engage in conversation with either of these two and refer to the 'Emperor' or 'Empress' and not call them 'Master' and 'Mistress', or attempted to speak of any of the ministers as anything but 'slaves', he would be regarded as ignorant and impertinent, and – as if he had committed a shocking offence and deliberately insulted the last person who should have been so treated – he was sent packing.
  Lastly, while in earlier reigns few visited the Palace, and they on rare occasions, from the day that these two assumed imperial power officials and people of every sort spent their days in the Palace with hardly a break. The reason was that in the old days the officials were allowed to do what was just and proper in accordance with their individual judgements; this meant that while carrying out their official duties they stayed in their own offices, while his subjects, neither seeing nor hearing of any injurious treatment, naturally troubled the Emperor very rarely. These two, however, all the time taking everything into their own hands to the detriment of their subjects, compelled everyone to be in constant attendance exactly like slaves. Almost any day one could see all the law-courts pretty well deserted, and at the Emperor's court an insolent crowd, elbowing and shoving, and all the time displaying the most abject servility. Those who were supposed to be close to the imperial pair stood there right through the whole day and invariably for a considerable part of the night, getting no sleep or food at the normal times, till they were practically on their last legs: this was all that their supposed good fortune brought them.
  When, however, they were released from all this, the poor wretches would engage in bitter quarrels as to what had happened to the wealth of the Romans. For some insisted that it was all with the barbarians; others declared that the Emperor kept it locked up in a vast array of hideaways. Anyway, whenever Justinian, if he is a man, departs from this life, or, as the Chief of the Demons, sets this mortal life aside, then all those who have the fortune still to be alive will know the truth...
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Secret History
  This line of questioning did not seem to me to be a wise one, especially here, now, but Sciola grinned, a gaunt, toothy expanse, like an old dog or an opossum—too many teeth, discolored, stained. "Me?" he said.
  He didn't say anything for a moment, just took a drag of his cigarette and nodded. "It doesn't make any difference what I think, son," he said after a pause. "This isn't a federal case."
  We stood there a moment or two longer, an awkward semicircle on the flagstones, and just as it seemed that everyone was going to open his mouth at once and say he had to be going, I heard a strange, choked noise from Camilla. I looked over at her in amazement. She was crying.
  Sciola, blinking in slow, somber consternation, twice reached to put his hand upon her arm, and on the third try his slow fingertips finally made contact with her elbow. "Dear," he said to her, "dear, you want us to drop you off home on our way?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Without warning I had a vision of Francis—twenty years later, fifty years, in a wheelchair. And of myself—older, too, sitting around with him in some smoky room, the two of us repeating this exchange for the thousandth time. At one time I had liked the idea, that the act, at least, had bound us together; we were not ordinary friends, but friends till-death-do-us-part. This thought had been my only comfort in the aftermath of Bunny's death. Now it made me sick, knowing there was no way out. I was stuck with them, with all of them, for good.
  On the walk home from Francis's—head down, sunk in a black, inarticulate tangle of anxiety and gloom—I heard Julian's voice saying my name.
  I turned. He was just coming out of the Lyceum. At the sight of his quizzical, kindly face—so sweet, so agreeable, so glad to see me—something wrenched deep in my chest.
  The benevolence, the spiritual calm, that radiated from him seemed so clear and true that, for a dizzying moment, I felt the darkness lift almost palpably from my heart. The relief was such that I almost broke down sobbing; but then, looking at him again, I felt the whole poisonous weight come crashing back down, full force.
  Though the fuss about Bunny had mostly blown over, the college had still not returned quite to normal—and not at all in the new "Dragnet" spirit of drug enforcement which had spread across campus. Gone were the nights when, on one's way home from the Rathskeller, it was not unheard-of to see an occasional teacher standing under the bare light bulb of Durbinstall basement—Arnie Weinstein, say, the Marxist economist (Berkeley, '69), or the haggard, scraggle-haired Englishman who taught classes in Sterne and Defoe.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He cleared his throat. "My movements are restricted," he said. "I no longer have the ability to travel as freely as I would like."
  I looked around curiously. It seemed that I was the only visitor. "Is it open to the public?" I said.
  I looked at him. There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say; but somehow I knew there wasn't time and even if there was, that it was all, somehow, beside the point.
  He considered this for moment. "Not particularly," he said. "But you're not very happy where you are, either."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: ". "My movements are restricted," he said. "I no longer have the ability to travel as freely as I would like."
  I looked around curiously. It seemed that I was the only visitor. "Is it open to the public?" I said.
  I looked at him. There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say; but somehow I knew there wasn't time and even if there was, that it was all, somehow, beside the point.
  He considered this for moment. "Not particularly," he said. "But you're not very happy where you are, either.He cleared his throat.