text_original: But now I so cross, and so peevish am grown, Because I must go to my wife back to town; To the fondling and toying of "honey," and "dear," And the conjugal comforts of horrid small beer.
text_transcription: BUT NOW I SO CROSS AND SO PEEVISH AM GROWN BECAUSE I MUST GO TO MY WIFE BACK TO TOWN TO THE FONDLING AND TOWING OF HONEY AND DEER AND THE CONJUGAL COMFORTS OF HORRID SMALL BEER
phonemes: bˌʌt nˈaʊ aɪ sˌoʊ kɹˈɔs, ænd sˌoʊ pˈiːvɪʃ ɐm ɡɹˈoʊn, bɪkˈʌz aɪ mˈʌst ɡˌoʊ tə maɪ wˈaɪf bˈæk tə tˈaʊn; tə ðə fˈɑːndlɪŋ ænd tˈɔɪɪŋ ʌv "hˈʌni," ænd "dˈɪɹ," ænd ðə kˈɑːndʒuːɡəl kˈʌmfɚts ʌv hˈɔːɹɪd smˈɔːl bˈɪɹ.