Is the romance of Japan's Prince Akihito and his commoner fiancee Michiko Shoda, which ripened shyly on the tennis courts of Tokyo, a love match after all? Cruelly thwacking the charming legend, a spokesman for the imperial household told the astounded Diet that nothing so silly as affection had a part in the troth-pledging; plain, old-fashioned parental bride-picking had done the trick. "The engagement of the Crown Prince was not the result of unthinking love," said the spokesman, adding obscurely, "I have observed the Prince and was compelled to admire his mature and deliberate way of thinking, regarding his marriage."

In Chicago for a short story reading, button-eyed Writer Dorothy Parker, 65, astounded newsmen with a shimmering new hairdo that banished her longstanding trademark: languidly cascading dark bangs. Why so? "To tell the truth," confided Dorothy, "I had to give up bangs. Too dangerous. They caught fire when I lit a cigarette."

Five years of wrangling with the taxman ended profitably for Negro Baritone Paul Robeson, ailing in a Moscow hospital. The Internal Revenue Service at last agreed with steadfast-Marxist Robeson that his 1953 Stalin Peace Prize of $25,000 was a gift rather than a payment for services, so he will not have to pay $9,655 in back income taxes after all.

Considerably sprucer than when he waddled through his filmed portrait of the artist (Joyce Cary's madcap Gulley Jimson) as an old sot, Cinemactor Sir Alec Guinness beamed sedately at a kind word from Princess Margaret at a royal film performance of The Horse's Mouth. Down the line, spinach-maned Chanteuse Juliette Greco and Cinemactress Peggy (Cash on Delivery) Cummins awaited the royal pleasure.

Fashionable Roman Sculptor Renato Signorini said that he had accepted a gilt-edged commission from Monaco's Prince Rainier: an 18-carat solid-gold bust of Princess Grace. Buckling down to three months of "very patient work," Signorini grandly measured the value of his work-to-be: "Priceless."

Owlish Cellist Pablo Casals, 81, ventured a hopeful thought on a species of U.S.-bred cacophony scarcely ever ventured on his mellow instrument: "Rock 'n' roll is a disease that shall pass away as quickly as it was created. It is a sad thing for your country. It is nothing, nothing."

On a visit to Toronto, Australian Super-miler Herb Elliott gamely tried out an unfamiliar sport, as expected ended his turn on the hickories like ski bunnies everywhere: doing an Australian crawl down under a pile of snow. Shaken but game, he scrambled woozily to his feet, diplomatically calmed the fears of his hosts with a gingerly verdict on the adventure: "Fun."

In a belated bow to 20th century custom, the Church of England Assembly voted to institute a 24-hour information service, thus spare the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Geoffrey Fisher, who democratically answers his own phone at Lambeth Palace even in countless wee-hours calls. "When the telephone rings at midnight," asked one assembly delegate, "is it resented as an intrusion on one's sleep or welcomed as an opportunity to spread the Gospel?" Said the Archbishop forthrightly: "At Lambeth it is resented."

Fortnight after Cinemactress Hedy Lamarr conked her estranged fifth husband, oil-rich Texan W. Howard Lee, with a $51,000 damage suit for nonpayment of his due ($3,000 a month or half his income, whichever is larger), Lee conked back, sued for divorce. One ground: "cruel treatment and outrages" by dark-eyed Hedy that "endangered" Lee's health.

After 39 years of gently molding student minds--among them Men-of-Letters Jacques Barzun, Clifton Fadiman and Lionel Trilling, Trappist Priest Thomas Merton, Quiz-Whiz Son Charles--long-faced, white-haired Poet-Critic Mark Van Doren, 64, will retire in June, very likely bind emeritus to his title of Professor of English at Columbia University.

Aging (38) Cinemoppet Mickey Rooney, who has a marrying eye for billowy, taller-than-he-is starlets--his first three brides were Ava Gardner, Betty Jane (Miss Birmingham of 1944) Rase and Martha Vickers--found his vision clouded once more. Sued for divorce by No. 4, Junoesque Elaine Mahnken, Mickey mused: "Marriage is like life. You're never sure you'll awaken tomorrow."

Now a successful Broadway writer (Sunrise at Campobello) after long years of ups and downs as a big-shot moviemaker, Producer Dore Schary pondered the cynical realism of Hollywood's ways: "If a picture is a box-office failure, they call it a message picture. If it turns out well, they call it a picture of content."

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