Two black Rolls-Royces drew up to a pier in Monaco, disgorged recently divorced Shipping Czar Aristotle Socrates Onassis and his great and dear friend, sulphurous Soprano Maria Callas, legally separated from her husband. A scarlet speedboat skittered them out to Onassis' yacht Christina. On the eve of sailing for Eastern Mediterranean ports, "Ari" and Maria went ashore for dinner with Monaco's Prince Rainier III and Princess Grace. Next day Christina steamed off across the azure waters for Capri, and from there she was bound for Venice, where Maria would presumably debark to keep a recording date in Milan, while Sir Winston and Lady Churchill were slated to come aboard.

Author Vladimir Nabokov was in the news in two distant lands, where his controversial novel Lolita was upsetting both decent and indecent folks. In New Zealand a Supreme Court judge upheld a customs ban on the book. Ruled Sir Douglas Hutchison: "With the best consideration I can give it, I think Lolita is aphrodisiac.'' A sort of proof of his contention came in Israel, where one Joseph Wahrhaftig was nabbed for behavior tending to corrupt the morals of a minor girl. Wahrhaftig recently translated Lolita into Hebrew.

Continuing an old French bedroom farce, Parisian Director Roger Vadim sadly announced that he will divorce his second wife, Danish-born Cinemactress Annette Stroyberg, because she is spending all her time with Sacha Distel, the same guitar-strumming troubadour who once paid court to Vadim's first wife, Cinemactress Brigitte Bardot. But that wasn't all: BB's current marriage to nervous Cinemactor Jacques Charrier is reported to be on the skids, and BB of late has longed aloud for Vadim.

London Barrister Ronald Armstrong-Jones, 61. proudly announced that in December he and third wife, Jenifer, 31, will present Princess Margaret's Antony Armstrong-Jones with a little half sister or half brother.

Holding forth as a $10-a-performance pantomimist in a Seattle jazz joint called No Place: William O. Douglas Jr., 28, son of the Supreme Court Justice. Patterning his antics after France's celebrated Mime Marcel Marceau, young Bill was better than boring, less than soaring. His best act was titled "The Five Thousand Pound Lift," in which he applied a superhuman clean-and-jerk to a gigantic invisible object.

Seventeen years and eight Broadway musicals after their first herculean hit (Oklahoma!). Composer Richard Rodgers, 58, abandoning memorable music for heartfelt words in the New York Times Magazine, saluted his friend and partner, Librettist Oscar Hammerstein II, on the eve of Hammerstein's 68th birthday this week. Their mutual affection is largely unspoken: "Oscar is fond of me--very fond, I think--as a man, and yet he has never even hinted vaguely at this. On the other hand, he's gone before the entire country on television and told everybody what a great person I was.'' Still, prying interviewers often ask what they "fight" about. "On the odd occasion when we don't agree, we resort to the old 'Alphonse and Gaston' technique. 'Let's try it your way first and if it doesn't work then we'll try mine.' It seems quite obvious that a writing collaboration differs very little from a marital one except, of course, in the obvious sense." Their only unresolved argument: "Oscar claims that at the time of our original meeting [circa 1917] I wore short pants and I claim, and still do, that I was mature enough to wear long ones."

Less than four years ago, his was the power and the glory; last week he was a has-been. Don Larsen, 30. who in 1956 pitched the only perfect game in World Series history for the New York Yankees against the Brooklyn Dodgers, was shipped off to the bushes. Traded by the Yankees to the Kansas City Athletics in 1959, Larsen had won 25 games, lost 22 since his big moment. He scored his last victory more than a year ago.

Attending a preview of a huge Pablo Picasso art show at London's famed Tate Gallery, Britain's Prince Philip was less than impressed by the master's protean efforts. Many newshounds, trailing Philip as he inspected the paintings and other works, distinctly heard him snicker on occasion. Beyond that, accounts varied. The London Daily Herald was certain that Philip had muttered: "I sometimes wonder if the customers understand it all."

The Daily Sketch claimed to have eavesdropped on the unkindest cut of all: "It looks as if the man drinks. Does he?"/-

/- A virtual teetotaler, Picasso sometimes takes a little wine with meals, customarily sips water at his own champagne fiestas.

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