A Scandal in Bohemia: Chapter 1, part 14

jul ɪkˈskjuːz ˈðɪs ˈmɑːsk | kənˈtɪnjuːd ɑː ˈstreɪnʤ ˈvɪzɪtə || ði ɔːˈɡʌs ˈpɜːsn̩ hu ɪmˈplɔɪz mi | ˈwɪʃɪz ɪz ˈeɪʤənt tə bi ʌnˈnəʊn tə ju | ən aɪ meɪ kənˈfes ət ˈwʌns | ðət ðə ˈtaɪtl̩ baɪ ˈwɪʧ aɪv ʤəs ˈkɔːlb məˈself | ɪz ˈnɒt ɪɡˈzækli maɪ ˈəʊn

aɪ wəz əˈweər əv ɪt ˈsed ˈhəʊmz ˈdraɪli

ðə ˈsɜːkəmstænsɪz ər əv ˈɡreɪt ˈdeləkəsi | ən ˈevri prɪˈkɔːʃn̩ ˈhæs tə bi ˈteɪkən | tə ˈkwenʧ wɒp ˈmaɪk ˈɡrəʊ | tə biː ən ɪˈmens ˈskændl̩ | ən ˈsɪəriəsli ˈkɒmprəmaɪz | ˈwʌn ə ðə ˈreɪnɪŋ ˈfæmliz əv ˈjɔːrəp || tə ˈspiːk ˈpleɪnli | ðə ˈmætər ˈɪmpləkeɪts | ðə ˈɡreɪt ˈhaʊs əv ˈɔːmstaɪn | həˈredətri ˈkɪŋz əv bəˈhiːmiə

aɪ wəz ˈɔːlsəʊ əˈweər əv ˈðæt ˈmɜːməd ˈhəʊmz | ˈsetlɪŋ ɪmself ˈdaʊn ɪn ɪz ˈɑːmʧeər | əŋ ˈkləʊzɪŋ ɪz ˈaɪz

ɑː ˈvɪzɪtə ˈɡlɑːns wɪð ˈsʌm əˈpærənt səˈpraɪz | ət ðə ˈlæŋɡwɪd ˈlaʊnʤɪŋ ˈfɪɡər əv ðə ˈmæn | hu əb bin ˈnəʊ ˈdaʊt dɪˈpɪktɪd ˈtuː ɪm | əz ðə ˈməʊst ɪnˈsaɪsɪv ˈriːznər | əm ˈməʊst ˈenəˈʤetɪk ˈeɪʤənt ɪn ˈjɔːrəp || ˈhəʊmz ˈsləʊli riːˈəʊpənd ɪz ˈaɪz | ən ˈlʊkt ɪmˈpeɪʃn̩tli ət ɪz ʤaɪˈɡæntɪk ˈklaɪənt

ɪf jɔː ˈmæʤəsti ˈwʊd ˈkɒndəˈsend tə ˈsteɪʧɔː ˈkeɪs i rɪˈmɑːkt | aɪ ʃəb bi ˈbetər ˈeɪbl̩ tu ədˈvaɪz ju

ðə ˈmæn ˈspræŋ frəm ɪz ˈʧeər | əm ˈpeɪst ˈʌp ən ˈdaʊn ðə ˈruːm | ɪn ˈʌŋkənˈtrəʊləbl̩ ˈæʤəˈteɪʃn̩ || ˈðen | wɪð ə ˈʤesʧər əv ˈdespəˈreɪʃn̩ | hi ˈtɔː ðə ˈmɑːsk frəm ɪz ˈfeɪs | ən ˈhɜːld ɪt əˈpɒn ðə ˈɡraʊnd || jɔː ˈraɪt i ˈkraɪd | aɪ ˈæm ðə ˈkɪŋ || ˈwaɪ ʃəd aɪ əˈtemt tə kənˈsiːl ɪt

Doyle, Arthur Conan. The Original Illustrated Sherlock Holmes. “Reproduced from the original publication in The Strand Magazine with the classic illustrations by Sidney Paget.” Edison, New Jersey: Castle Books, [after 1954]. Internet Archive version of a copy donated by Friends of the San Francisco Library. http://www.victorianweb.org/art/illustration/pagets/4.html

“You will excuse this mask,” continued our strange visitor. “The august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have just called myself is not exactly my own.”

“I was aware of it,” said Holmes dryly.

“The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution has to be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense scandal and seriously compromise one of the reigning families of Europe. To speak plainly, the matter implicates the great House of Ormstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia.”

“I was also aware of that,” murmured Holmes, settling himself down in his armchair and closing his eyes.

Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted to him as the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe. Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his gigantic client.

“If your Majesty would condescend to state your case,” he remarked, “I should be better able to advise you.”

The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he tore the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. “You are right,” he cried; “I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?”