text_original: The old man drew her to his heart. " It is well, my daughter ! Let me at least bequeath to you my hate, if I cannot leave you the wealth and honors of which I was robbed. Listen
text_transcription: THE OLD MAN DREW HER TO HIS HEART IT IS WELL MY DAUGHTER LET ME AT LEAST BEQUEATH TO YOU MY HATE IF I CANNOT LEAVE YOU THE WEALTH AND HONORS OF WHICH I WAS ROBBED LISTEN
phonemes: ðɪ ˈoʊld mˈæn dɹˈuː hɜː tə hɪz hˈɑːɹt. " ɪɾ ɪz wˈɛl, maɪ dˈɔːɾɚ ! lˈɛt mˌiː æt lˈiːst bᵻkwˈiːθ tə juː maɪ hˈeɪt, ɪf aɪ kænˈɑːt lˈiːv juː ðə wˈɛlθ ænd ˈɑːnɚz ʌvwˈɪtʃ aɪ wʌz ɹˈɑːbd. lˈɪsən