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These ply the deeply-laden almadie, those cut the waves and dil’igent swim the Main; some choke ’neath bending surge of surfy sea, some drink the brine, out-puffing it again.
The crank canoes, wherein the vermin flee, are torn by smaller bombards’ fiery rain.
Thuswise, in fine, the Portingalls chastise their vile, malicious, treach’erous enemies.