text_original: —Heavens, will "fifty two carts," in long row, hardly carry it to the _Halle aux Bleds?_ Well, truly, ye reverend Fathers, was your pantry filled; fat are your larders; over generous your wine bins, ye plotting exasperators of the Poor; traitorous forestallers of bread!
text_transcription: HEAVENS WILL FIFTY TWO CARTS IN LONG ROW HARDLY CARRY IT TO HALLOG BLADE WELL TRULY YE REVEREND FATHERS WAS YOUR PANTRY FILLED FAT ARE YOUR LARDERS OVERGENEROUS YOUR WINE BINS YE PLOTTING EXASPERATORS OF THE POOR TRAITOROUS FOR SCHOLARS OF BREAD
phonemes: —hˈɛvənz, wˈɪl "fˈɪfti tˈuː kˈɑːɹts," ɪn lˈɔŋ ɹˈoʊ, hˈɑːɹdli kˈæɹi ɪt tə ðə hˈæl ˈɔːks blˈɛdz?wˈɛl, tɹˈuːli, jiː ɹˈɛvɚɹˌɛnd fˈɑːðɚz, wʌz jʊɹ pˈæntɹi fˈɪld; fˈæt ɑːɹ jʊɹ lˈɑːɹdɚz; ˌoʊvɚ dʒˈɛnɚɹəs jʊɹ wˈaɪn bˈɪnz, jiː plˈɑːɾɪŋ ɛɡzˈæspɚɹˌeɪɾɚz ʌvðə pˈʊɹ; tɹˈeɪɾɚɹəs fˈɔːɹɪstˌɔːlɚz ʌv bɹˈɛd!