Clever (like most people of her time, cannot read or write): I have seen the Bishop's holy books, chained in the Cathedral. Is my story written? Told in advance of my living it?
Owl-Chymist: You? (a curled lip/beak) There is no new thing under the sun. The Truth of our doctrine is obvious, stable, and eternal. My chymical experiments bear witness.
Clever (her mind races): Are you never surprised? Astonished by the unexpected? Bewildered by experimental outcomes?
Owl-Chymist: Ah, you speak of a fashionable whimsy among modern innovators, those recusant chymists who invent hypotheses for every experiment. New notions, hastily built upon two or three experiments, are destroyed by a third or fourth. New ideas trumpeted one week are laughed at the next. A fanciful world-view.
Clever, not understanding technical talk, shrugs and opens her walnut.