text_original: "Drink, then, to it!" cried Auriol. "I know not what stays my hand," said the old man, raising the phial; "but now that immortality is in my reach, I dare not grasp it."
text_transcription: DRINK THEN TO IT CRIED ORIOLE I KNOW NOT WHAT STAYS MY HAND SAID THE OLD MAN RAISING THE FILE BUT NOW THAT IMMORTALITY IS IN MY REACH I DARE NOT GRASP IT
phonemes: "dɹˈɪŋk, ðˈɛn, tʊ ɪt!" kɹˈaɪd ˈɔːɹɪˌɑːl. "aɪ nˈoʊ nˌɑːt wʌt stˈeɪz maɪ hˈænd," sˈɛd ðɪ ˈoʊld mˈæn, ɹˈeɪzɪŋ ðə fˈaɪəl; "bˌʌt nˈaʊ ðæt ɪmɔːɹtˈælᵻɾi ɪz ɪn maɪ ɹˈiːtʃ, aɪ dˈɛɹ nˌɑːt ɡɹˈæsp ɪt."