text_original: 'I know,' I said, 'that the sleep of death is eternal. That the grave never gives back, to form and substance, the mouldering body; and it indeed matters little to me who or what you are, since I well know you cannot be what you would seem.' I stepped down from the monument; and turned up the wood path, leading to the castle.
text_transcription: I KNOW I SAID THAT THE SLEEP OF DEATH IS ETERNAL THAT THE GRAVE NEVER GIVES BACK TO FORM AND SUBSTANCE THE MOULDERING BODY AND IT INDEED MATTERS LITTLE TO ME WHO OR WHAT YOU ARE SINCE I WELL KNOW YOU CANNOT BE WHAT YOU WOULD SEEM I STEPPED DOWN FROM THE MONUMENT AND TURNED UP THE WOOD PATH LEADING TO THE CASTLE
phonemes: aɪ nˈoʊ,aɪ sˈɛd, ðætðə slˈiːp ʌv dˈɛθ ɪz ɪtˈɜːnəl. ðætðə ɡɹˈeɪv nˈɛvɚ ɡˈɪvz bˈæk, tə fˈɔːɹm ænd sˈʌbstəns, ðə mˈoʊldɚɹɪŋ bˈɑːdi; ænd ɪɾ ˌɪndˈiːd mˈæɾɚz lˈɪɾəl tə mˌiː hˌuː ɔːɹ wˈʌt juː ɑːɹ, sˈɪns aɪ wˈɛl nˈoʊ juː kænˈɑːt biː wʌt juː wʊd sˈiːm.aɪ stˈɛpt dˌaʊn fɹʌmðə mˈɑːnjuːmənt; ænd tˈɜːnd ˌʌp ðə wˈʊd pˈæθ, lˈiːdɪŋ tə ðə kˈæsəl.