"I speake not only for eyes priviledge,
The chiefe exterior that I would enjoy:
But for thy perill, farre beyond my paine,
Thy sweete soules losse more than my eyes vaine lack."

Again at the end he says:

"Delay not, Hubert, my orisons are ended,
Begin I pray thee, reave me of my sight."

And when Hubert relents because his "conscience bids him desist," Arthur
says:

"Hubert, if ever Arthur be in state
Looke for amends of this received gift."

In all this there is neither realization of character nor even sincere
emotion. But Shakespeare's Arthur is a masterpiece of soul-revealing,
and moves us to pity at every word:

"Will you put out mine eyes?
These eyes that never did, nor never shall,
So much as frown on you?"

And then the child's imaginative horror of being bound:

"For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound.
Nay, hear me, Hubert: drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb;
I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word."