After they heard Phoebus out they brought home from Pytho

the god's oracles, the perfect words,

[for this was the proclamation of Apollo, golden-haired lord

of the silver bow who shoots far, from his rich shrine]:

the Kings whom the gods honor shall lead the council,

they must look after the lovely city of Sparta,

they and the old men, the Elders; after them the common men

shall respond with decrees that are right,

speaking well and acting with justice in all things,

never making a judgment that is crooked for the city.

And so victory and strength will attend the mass of people.

For that is the word of Apollo to the city on these matters.

It is noble for a good man to die, falling in the forefront

of battle, fighting for his fatherland.

but there is nothing more wretched than leaving

one's city and rich fields to beg,

and wander with his dear mother, his old father,

his little children and wedded wife.

For he will be hated by those he comes to be among

in the grip of want and ugly poverty;

he shames his family, he undermines his bright beauty

and brings every evil and dishonor after him. […]