far, but when the first masses settled on a shallow place, the rest which were carried down upon them could not get past, but became heaped up there, and the stream compacted them securely by the mud which it deposited upon them, not only increasing the size of the whole mass, but firmly cementing it together.  The waves did not shake it, but gently beat it into a solid consistency.  Now, from its size, it began to receive additions, as most of what the river brought down settled upon it.  It is now a sacred island close by the city, with temples and walks, and in the Latin tongue it has a name which means “between two bridges.”  Some state that this did not happen when Tarquinia’s field was consecrated, but in later times when Tarquinia gave up another field next to that one, for the public use.  This Tarquinia was a priestess, one of the Vestal virgins, and she was greatly honoured for having done so, and was allowed to appear as a witness in court, which no other woman could do; she also was permitted to marry, by a decree of the senate, but did not avail herself of it.  These are the legends which they tell about this island.

IX.  Tarquin now gave up all hopes of recovering his throne by intrigue, and appealed to the Etruscans, who willingly espoused his cause and endeavoured to restore him with a great army.  The consuls led out the Romans to fight against them, posting them in holy places one of which is called the Arsian grove, and another the Aesuvian meadow.  When they were about to join battle, Aruns, the son of Tarquin, and Brutus, the Roman consul, attacked one another, not by chance, but with fell hatred and rage, the one urging his horse against the tyrant and enemy of his country, the other against the man who drove him into exile.  Falling upon one another with more fury than judgment, they made no attempt to defend themselves, but only to strike, and both perished.  The struggle, so terribly begun, was continued with equal ferocity on both sides, until the armies, after great losses, were separated by a tempest.  Valerius was in great straits, not knowing how the battle had gone, and observing that his soldiers were despondent when they looked at the corpses of their comrades, and elated when they saw those of the enemy, so equal and undecided had been the slaughter.  Yet each side, when it viewed its own dead close by, was more inclined to own itself defeated, than to claim the victory because of the supposed losses of the enemy.  Night came on, and it was spent as may be imagined by men who had fought so hard.  When all was quiet in both camps, we are told that the grove was shaken, and that from it proceeded a loud voice which declared that the Etruscans had lost one man more than the Romans.  Apparently it was the voice of a god; for immediately the Romans raised a bold and joyous shout, and the Etruscans, panic-stricken, ran out of their camp and dispersed.  The Romans attacked the camp, took prisoners all that were left in it,