text_original: Lina sat by his side, her white hands moving with an almost rhythmical regularity as she 'Yeve Me my Deth, or that I have a Shame' 129 knitted a soft woollen comforter for one of her numerous pen  sioners. ' My busy Penelope, don't you think you might rest from your labours now that Ulysses is safe at home, and the suitors are all put to flight
text_transcription: LENA SAT BY HIS SIDE HER WHITE HANDS MOVING WITH AN ALMOST RHYTHMICAL REGULARITY AS SHE KNITTED A SOFT WOOLLEN COMFORTER FOR ONE OF HER NUMEROUS PENSIONERS MY BUSY PENELOPE DON'T YOU THINK YOU MIGHT REST FROM YOUR LABOURS NOW THAT ULYSSES IS SAFE AT HOME AND THE SUITORS ARE ALL PUT TO FLIGHT
phonemes: lˈiːnə sˈæt baɪ hɪz sˈaɪd, hɜː wˈaɪt hˈændz mˈuːvɪŋ wɪð ɐn ˈɔːlmoʊst ɹˈɪðmɪkəl ɹˌɛɡjʊlˈæɹᵻɾi æz ʃiː jˈɛv mˌiː maɪ dˈɛθ, ɔːɹ ðæt aɪ hæv ɐ ʃˈeɪm wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd twˈɛnti nˈaɪn nˈɪɾᵻd ɐ sˈɔft wˈʊlən kˈʌmfɚɾɚ fɔːɹ wˈʌn ʌv hɜː nˈuːmɚɹəs pˈɛn sɪˈoʊnɚz. maɪ bˈɪzi pənˈɛləpi, dˈoʊnt juː θˈɪŋk juː mˌaɪt ɹˈɛst fɹʌm jʊɹ lˈeɪbɚz nˈaʊ ðæt jˈuːlɪsˌiːz ɪz sˈeɪf æt hˈoʊm, ænd ðə sˈuːɾɚz ɑːɹ ˈɔːl pˌʊt tə flˈaɪt