The Ox

"Suppose, monks, there is some ripe corn, and a lazy guardian. And an ox,[1] fond of corn, gets into the field and eats his fill with ravenous delight. In the same way, monks, the ignorant worldling, being uncontrolled in the six sense-spheres, eats his fill with ravenous delight among the five kinds of sense-pleasure.[2]

"But suppose, monks, there is some ripe corn, and a vigilant guardian. And an ox, fond of corn, gets into the field. The guardian seizes him firmly by the muzzle. Holding him by the muzzle, he gets a firm grip on his forehead and holds him fast. He then gives him a sound thrashing with a stick, and then lets him go [a second and a third time he does this.] So it comes about monks, that that ox, fond of corn, though he wanders about in the village or the forest, whether he stands still or lies down, will not go into that field again because he remember the beating he got there before. In the same way, monks, when a monk's mind is strongly stirred by the six sense-spheres, nevertheless he stands firm inwardly, becomes calm, one-pointed and concentrated."[3]