Helena did not deceive herself in the hope she conceived of the efficacy of her father’s medicine. Before two days were at an end, the king was restored to perfect health, and he assembled all the young noblemen of his court together, in order to confer the promised reward of a husband upon his fair physician; and he desired Helena to look around on this youthful parcel of noble bachelors, and choose her husband. Helena was not slow to make her choice, for among these young lords she saw the Count Rossilion, and turning to Bertram, she said, “This is the man. I dare not say, my lord, I take you, but I give me and my service ever whilst I live into your guiding power.” “Why then,” said the king, “young Bertram, take her; she is your wife.” Bertram did not hesitate to declare his dislike to this present of the king’s of the self-offered Helena, who, he said, was a poor physician’s daughter, bred at his father’s charge, and now living dependent on his mother’s bounty. Helena heard him speak these words of rejection and of scorn, and she said to the king, “That you are well, my lord, I am glad. Let the rest go.” But the king would not suffer his royal command to be so slighted; for the power of bestowing their nobles in marriage was one of the many privileges of the kings of France; and that same day Bertram was married to Helena, a forced and uneasy marriage to Bertram, and of no promising hope to the poor lady, who, though she gained the noble husband she had hazarded her life to obtain, seemed to have won but a splendid blank, her husband’s love not being a gift in the power of the king of France to bestow. Helena was no sooner married, than she was desired by Bertram to apply to the king for him for a leave of absence from court; and when she brought him the king’s permission for his departure, Bertram told her that as he was not prepared for this sudden marriage, it had much unsettled him, and therefore she must not wonder at the course he should pursue. If Helena wondered not, she grieved, when she found it was his intention to leave her. He ordered her to go home to his mother. When Helena heard this unkind command, she replied, “I can nothing say to this, but that I am your most obedient servant, and shall ever with true observance seek to eke out that desert, wherein my homely stars have failed to equal my great fortunes.” But this humble speech of Helena’s did not at all move the haughty Bertram to pity his gentle wife, and he parted from her without even the common civility of a kind farewell.