text_original: His faithful squire could then bear the sight no longer. He snatched up the pestle with which the bread was being pounded for the brethren's soup, and struck the head cook with all his might, saying, " Neither may God spare thee, vile slave, nor may Carloman forgive thee."
text_transcription: HIS FAITHFUL SQUIRE COULD THEN BEAR THE SIGHT NO LONGER HE SNATCHED UP THE PESTLE WITH WHICH THE BREAD WAS BEING POUNDED FOR THE BRETHREN'S SOUP AND STRUCK THE HEAD COOK WITH ALL HIS MIGHT SAYING NEITHER MAY GOD SPARE THEE VILE SLAVE NOR MAY KARLIMAN FORGIVE THEE
phonemes: hɪz fˈeɪθfəl skwˈaɪɚ kʊd ðˈɛn bˈɛɹ ðə sˈaɪt nˌoʊ lˈɑːŋɡɚ. hiː snˈætʃt ˌʌp ðə pˈɛsəl wɪð wˌɪtʃ ðə bɹˈɛd wʌz bˌiːɪŋ pˈaʊndᵻd fɚðə bɹˈɛðɹənz sˈuːp, ænd stɹˈʌk ðə hˈɛd kˈʊk wɪð ˈɔːl hɪz mˈaɪt, sˈeɪɪŋ, " nˈiːðɚ mˈeɪ ɡˈɑːd spˈɛɹ ðˈiː, vˈaɪl slˈeɪv, nˈɔːɹ mˈeɪ kˈɑːɹlɑːmən fɚɡˈɪv ðˈiː."