Much of this cruelty was instigated by a woman whom Hortensia mentions. Antony, whose amatory experiences were as varied as they were numerous, was at one time engaged in an intrigue with Fulvia, then the wife of Clodius. She afterward became Antony's wife. Here was a woman the exact opposite of Portia; a resentful, stubborn, masculine woman, "in whom," says Velleius Paterculus, "there was nothing feminine but her body." It is told of her that when Cicero was murdered, his head was brought to her, and she drove her bodkin through the tongue which had so bitterly rated her and her husband. On another occasion, the head of one of the proscribed was brought to Antony. "I do not know it," he said; "let it be taken to my wife." It was the head of a citizen of whom nothing worse is known than that he had refused to sell a farm which Fulvia desired to obtain. Plutarch relates that Antony was obliged to resort to all sorts of boyish tricks in order to keep Fulvia in good humor. Among other like stories which he says were current, he gives the following, relating to the triumvir's sudden return to Rome: "Disguising himself, he came to her by night, muffled up as a servant that brought letters from Antony. She, with great impatience, before she receives the letter, asks if Antony were well, and instead of an answer he gives her the letter; and, as she was opening it, he takes her about the neck and kisses her." The historian gives this characterization of Fulvia: "a woman not born for spinning or housewifery, nor one that could be content with ruling a private husband, but prepared to govern a first magistrate, or give orders to a commander-in-chief. So that Cleopatra was under great obligations to her for having taught Antony to be so good a servant, he coming to her hands tame and broken into entire obedience to the commands of a mistress." Evidently, we must regard Mark Antony as being the great historical type of the "henpecked" husband; there is, however, no occasion for sympathy; his punishment was no greater than he deserved. The chief misfortune lay in the fact that Fulvia died, and thus made room for the noble and much-abused Octavia, whom he afterward married.