Caligula murdered his father-in-law, Claudius his son-in-law to boot.
Caligula would not have Crassus' son called Great; Claudius gave him his
name back, and took away his head. In one family he destroyed Crassus,
Magnus, Scribonia, the Tristionias, Assario, noble though they were;
Crassus indeed such a fool that he might have been emperor. Is this he you
want now to make a god? Look at his body, born under the wrath of heaven!
In fine, let him say the three words [Footnote: Some formula such as _ais
esse meum_.] quickly, and he may have me for a slave. God! who will worship
this god, who will believe in him? While you make gods of such as he, no
one will believe you to be gods. To be brief, my lords: if I have lived
honourably among you, if I have never given plain speech to any, avenge my
wrongs. This is my motion": then he read out his amendment, which he had
committed to writing: "Inasmuch as the blessed Claudius murdered his
father-in-law Appius Silanus, his two sons-in-law, Pompeius Magnus and L.
Silanus, Crassus Frugi his daughter's father-in-law, as like him as two
eggs in a basket, Scribonia his daughter's mother-in-law, his wife
Messalina, and others too numerous to mention; I propose that strong
measures be taken against him, that he be allowed no delay of process, that
immediate sentence of banishment be passed on him, that he be deported from
heaven within thirty days, and from Olympus within thirty hours."

This motion was passed without further debate. Not a moment was lost:
Mercury screwed his neck and haled him to the lower regions, to that bourne
"from which they say no traveller returns." [Footnote: Catullus iii, 12.]
As they passed downwards along the Sacred Way, Mercury asked what was that
great concourse of men? could it be Claudius' funeral? It was certainly a
most gorgeous spectacle, got up regardless of expense, clear it was that a
god was being borne to the grave: tootling of flutes, roaring of horns, an
immense brass band of all sorts, such a din that even Claudius could hear
it. Joy and rejoicing on every side, the Roman people walking about like
free men. Agatho and a few pettifoggers were weeping for grief, and for
once in a way they meant it. The Barristers were crawling out of their
dark corners, pale and thin, with hardly a breath in their bodies, as
though just coming to life again. One of them when he saw the pettifoggers
putting their heads together, and lamenting their sad lot, up come