Shakespeare’s speaker admits right away that his eyes notice a thousand flaws in the beloved, so he can’t love with sight. His ears aren’t charmed by her voice, nor does his touch, taste, or smell crave any sensual contact with her. Every one of his five wits and five senses rejects her — yet his foolish heart loves anyway, dismissing all that judgment. He becomes a helpless slave to her proud heart, stripped of the dignity of a man. The poem’s mood is bitterly self-aware, almost mocking. He knows he’s irrational, but he can’t stop. That tension between reason and obsession gives the sonnet a wry, painful edge. The closing couplet offers a grim consolation: the woman who drives him to sin also deals out his punishment, and he calls that pain his only profit. It’s love without any pretty illusions, just stubborn, punishing devotion.
Sonnet 141: In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes — Summary
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, For they in thee a thousand errors note; But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise, Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote. Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted; Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone, Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited To any sensual feast with thee alone: But my five wits nor my five senses can Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee, Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man, Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to be: Only my plague thus far I count my gain, That she that makes me sin awards me pain.