text_original: But beneath the low arch Of its doorway there stood A pale priest of Rome, In his cloak and his hood. With the bound of a lion, La Tour sprang to land, On the throat of the Papist He fastened his hand. "Speak, son of the Woman Of scarlet and sin! What wolf has been prowling My castle within?"
text_transcription: BUT BENEATH THE LOW ARCH OF THE DOORWAY THERE STOOD A PALE PRIEST OF ROME IN HIS CLOAK AND HIS HOOD WITH THE BOUND OF A LION LATOUR SPRANG TO LEND ON THE THROAT OF THE PAP AS HE FASTENED HIS HAND SPEAK SON OF THE WOMAN OF SCARLET IN SIN WHAT WOLF HAS BEEN PROWLING MY CASTLE WITHIN
phonemes: bˌʌt bᵻnˌiːθ ðə lˈoʊ ˈɑːɹtʃ ʌv ɪts dˈɔːɹweɪ ðɛɹ stˈʊd ɐ pˈeɪl pɹˈiːst ʌv ɹˈoʊm, ɪn hɪz klˈoʊk ænd hɪz hˈʊd. wɪððə bˈaʊnd əvə lˈaɪən, lˌæ tˈʊɹ spɹˈæŋ tə lˈænd, ɔnðə θɹˈoʊt ʌvðə pˈeɪpɪst hiː fˈæsənd hɪz hˈænd. "spˈiːk, sˈʌn ʌvðə wˈʊmən ʌv skˈɑːɹlɪt ænd sˈɪn! wˌʌt wˈʊlf hˈæzbiːn pɹˈaʊlɪŋ maɪ kˈæsəl wɪðˈɪn?"