text_original: 'No, no, my Lord,' cried Delamere, in a voice rendered almost inarticulate by contending passions  'his hope was not to meet _me_. He is gone with far other designs.'
text_transcription: NO NO MY LORD CRIED DELAMIR IN A VOICE RENDERED ALMOST INARTICULATE BY CONTENDING PASSIONS HIS HOPE WAS NOT TO MEET ME HE IS GONE WITH FAR OTHER DESIGNS
phonemes: nˈoʊ, nˈoʊ, maɪ lˈɔːɹd,kɹˈaɪd dᵻlˈæmɪɹ, ɪn ɐ vˈɔɪs ɹˈɛndɚd ˈɔːlmoʊst ɪnɑːɹtˈɪkjʊlˌeɪt baɪ kəntˈɛndɪŋ pˈæʃənz hɪz hˈoʊp wʌz nˌɑːt tə mˈiːt mˌiː. hiː ɪz ɡɔn wɪð fˈɑːɹ ˈʌðɚ dɪzˈaɪnz.