To indicate sex, e.g., the form servus indicates the male sex, and to denote the female sex the word is changed to serva; and so also with the forms deus and dea, dominus and domina, Julius and Julia, actor and actrix, agitator and agitatrix, adnepos and adneptis, rex and regini.
1971, Robert Anthony Bromley, A Philosophical and Critical History of the Fine Arts, pages 264–265:
When Diana of Epheſus was repreſented in a car drawn by two oxen, whence ſhe gained the name of “[…]agitatrix”, the aſsurance we have that ſhe was conſidered as the moon, and cloſeneſs of thoſe ſymbols to the nocturnal ſun, give us that part of the eaſtern theology again.
1975, Robert A. Heinlein, The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress, page 28:
She looked good. Better yet, she looked not at all like agitatrix who had harangued crowd.
1975, Alexander Theroux, Three Wogs, page 72:
Her hair, teased into a chemical blond nest, wisped down into sparse, uneven bangs which blurred her heavily made-up eyes, arched, obviously, with a piece of rare coal and which, upon closer inspection, revealed the open moonlike face of the pert agitatrix, part obduracy, part infantile cunning: in nuce, a Rubens on the way to becoming a Braque.
1987, Peter Dickinson, A Summer in the Twenties, page 119:
‘Agitator — I suppose it should be agitatrix, really.’
‘What a lovely word! Aye, that’s me, Red Kate Barnes.’
‘Are you going to the meeting?’
‘Aye, but how did you hear of it?’
‘Some of the men were shouting about it just now,…’
1990, Congress for Cultural Freedom, Encounter, page 11:
DEAREST NANCY,
Were you suprised that your article on the English aristocracy caused such a to-do? I was not. I have long revered you as an agitator — agitatrix,…
1997, Donald M. Hassler, Clyde Wilcox, Political Science Fiction, page 47:
Wyoming Knott (Wyho) initially seems a powerful figure (22), an “agitatrix” (28), but like most female characters in Heinlein quickly fades to subservience (65 ff.), learning to “ke[ep] her pretty mouth shut” (280).
