text_original: " Darby and Joan," echoed Allegra, as she filled his cup. " Must we bo like that : old and prosy, sitting by the fire, while life goes by us outside ? It seems sad that there should be no alternative between slow decay and untimely death."
text_transcription: DARBY JOAN ECHOED ALLEGRA AS SHE FILLED HIS CUP MUST WE BE LIKE THAT OLD AND PROSY SITTING BY THE FIRE WHILE LIFE GOES ON BY US OUTSIDE IT SEEMS SAD THAT THERE SHOULD BE NO ALTERNATIVE BETWEEN SLOW DECAY AND UNTIMELY DEATH
phonemes: " dˈɑːɹbi ænd dʒˈoʊn," ˈɛkoʊd ɐlˈɛɡɹə, æz ʃiː fˈɪld hɪz kˈʌp. " mˈʌst wiː bˈoʊ lˈaɪk ðˈæt : ˈoʊld ænd pɹˈoʊzi, sˈɪɾɪŋ baɪ ðə fˈaɪɚ, wˌaɪl lˈaɪf ɡoʊz baɪ ˌʌs aʊtsˈaɪd ? ɪt sˈiːmz sˈæd ðæt ðɛɹ ʃˌʊd biː nˈoʊ ɔːltˈɜːnətˌɪv bᵻtwˌiːn slˈoʊ dᵻkˈeɪ ænd ʌntˈaɪmli dˈɛθ."