conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a plot for a book about Nonexistent, Knight, Charlemagne entitled The Nonexistent Knight
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Nonexistent Knight: The Nonexistent Knight is set in the time of Charlemagne, and draws material from the literary cycle known as the Matter of France, referencing Ariosto\'s Orlando Furioso.\nAgilulf is a righteous, perfectionist, faithful and pious knight with only one shortcoming: he doesn\'t exist.\nInside his empty armour is an echoing voice that reverberates through the metal.\nNevertheless, he serves the army of a Christian king out of "goodwill and faith in the holy cause".
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: \nAgilulf is a righteous, perfectionist, faithful and pious knight with only one shortcoming: he doesn\'t exist.\nInside his empty armour is an echoing voice that reverberates through the metal.\nNevertheless, he serves the army of a Christian king out of "goodwill and faith in the holy cause".
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first four paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Nonexistent Knight
  BENEATH the red ramparts of Paris the army of France lay marshaled. Charlemagne was due to review his paladins. They had already been waiting for more than three hours. It was hot, an early summer afternoon, misty, a bit cloudy. Inside their armor, the men were steaming. Perhaps one or two in that motionless row of knights went off in a daze or a doze, but the armor kept them stiff in their saddles. Suddenly there were three trumpet calls. Plumes on charges swayed in the still air as if at a gust of wind, and silence replaced a surflike sound which must have come from the warriors snoring inside the metal throats of their helmets. Finally, from the end of the line, came Charlemagne, on a horse that looked larger than life, beard resting on his chest, and hands on the pommel of his saddle. With all his warring and ruling, ruling and waning, he seemed slightly aged since the last time those warriors had seen him.
  At every officer he stopped his horse and turned to look him up and down. "And who are you, paladin of France?"
  He knew all armorial bearings on their shields without needing to be told, but it was usage for names to be proffered and faces shown. Otherwise, someone with better things to do than be reviewed might send his armor on parade with another inside.
  Evening was coming on. In the wind and dusk faces could not be made out clearly. But by now every word, every gesture was foreseeable, as all else in that war which had lasted so many years, its every skirmish and duel conducted according to rules so that it was always known beforehand who would win or lose, be heroic or cowardly, be gutted or merely unhorsed and thumped. Each night by torchlight the blacksmiths hammered out the same dents on cuirasses.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: four more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: One by one the paladins arrived in their grand gala robes which, between lace and brocade, still showed chain mail cuirasses, the kind with a very wide mesh, worn with dress armor, gleaming like a mirror but splintering at a mere rapier's blow. First came Roland, who sat down on his uncle the emperor's right, and then Rinaldo of Montalbano, Astolf, Anjouline of Bayonne, Richard of Normandy and all the others.
  At the very end of the table sat Agilulf, still in his stainless battle armor. What had he come to do at table, he who had not and never would have any appetite, nor stomach to fill, nor mouth to bring his fork to, nor palate to sprinkle with Bordeaux wine? Yet he never failed to appear at these banquets, which lasted for hours, though the time would surely have been better employed in operations connected with his duties. But no! He had the right like all the others to a place at the Imperial table, and he occupied it. And he carried out the banquet ceremonial with the same meticulous care that he put into every other ceremonial act of the day.
  The courses were the usual ones in a military mess: stuffed turkey roasted on the spit, braised oxen, suckling pig, eels, gold fish. Scarcely had the lackeys offered the platters than the paladins flung themselves on them, rummaged about with their hands and tore the food apart, smearing their cuirasses and squirting sauce everywhere. The confusion was worse than battle—soup tureens overturning, roast chickens flying, and lackeys yanking away platters before a greedy paladin emptied them into his porringer.
  With all this he never lost the thread of talk weaving to and fro across the table, and always intervened in time.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: With all this he never lost the thread of talk weaving to and fro across the table, and always intervened in time.. The confusion was worse than battle—soup tureens overturning, roast chickens flying, and lackeys yanking away platters before a greedy paladin emptied them into his porringer. Scarcely had the lackeys offered the platters than the paladins flung themselves on them, rummaged about with their hands and tore the food apart, smearing their cuirasses and squirting sauce everywhere.
  The courses were the usual ones in a military mess: stuffed turkey roasted on the spit, braised oxen, suckling pig, eels, gold fish. And he carried out the banquet ceremonial with the same meticulous care that he put into every other ceremonial act of the day. But no! He had the right like all the others to a place at the Imperial table, and he occupied it. What had he come to do at table, he who had not and never would have any appetite, nor stomach to fill, nor mouth to bring his fork to, nor palate to sprinkle with Bordeaux wine? Yet he never failed to appear at these banquets, which lasted for hours, though the time would surely have been better employed in operations connected with his duties.
  At the very end of the table sat Agilulf, still in his stainless battle armor. First came Roland, who sat down on his uncle the emperor's right, and then Rinaldo of Montalbano, Astolf, Anjouline of Bayonne, Richard of Normandy and all the others.One by one the paladins arrived in their grand gala robes which, between lace and brocade, still showed chain mail cuirasses, the kind with a very wide mesh, worn with dress armor, gleaming like a mirror but splintering at a mere rapier's blow
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs. End with the sentence '.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I hear the Sister Guardian's voice reply, "No, soldier, there are no Amazons here, only poor holy women praying for your sins."
  But now I run to the window and cry, "Yes, Raimbaut, I'm here, wait for me, I knew you'd come, I'll be down, I'll leave with you."
  And hurriedly I tear off my cloistral bands, my nun's skirt, pull out of a drawer my little topaz-colored tunic, my cuirass, my helmet, my spurs, my periwinkle blue robe. "Wait for me, Raimbaut, I'm here, I'm here, I, Bradamante!"
  I'm hurrying to you, Raimbaut I'm not even bidding the abbess good-bye. They know me already and know that after affrays and affairs and blighted hopes I always return to this cloister. But it will be different now... It will be...
  From describing the past, from the present which seized my hand in its excited grasp, here I am, O future, now mounting the crupper of your horse. What new pennants wilt thou unfurl before me from towers of cities not yet founded? What rivers of devastation set flowing over castles and gardens I have loved? What unforeseeable golden ages art thou preparing—ill-mastered, indomitable harbinger of treasures dearly paid for, my kingdom to be conquered, the future...