Πολύ πριν από την πριγκίπισσα Νταϊάνα υπήρξε μια άλλη λαίδη Νταϊάνα, στις αρχές του περασμένου αιώνα, που θεωρούνταν η πιο ωραία γυναίκα της εποχής της και είχε γίνει και εξώφυλλο του περιοδικού Time το 1926.
Αυτή η Νταϊάνα δεν παντρεύτηκε τον πρίγκιπα της Ουαλίας, αν και η μητέρα της το προσπάθησε (πρίγκιπας της Ουαλίας ήταν εκείνος ο Εδουάρδος που παραιτήθηκε αργότερα από το θρόνο για να παντρευτεί την Αμερικανίδα, τη Σίμπσον). Η Νταϊάνα παντρεύτηκε τον
Νταφ Κούπερ, που ήταν δανδής εκείνης της εποχής και όχι σαν τους κρυόκωλους τους Ουίνδσορ. Ο Νταφ ακολούθησε καριέρα στην πολιτική (και μάλιστα η σύζυγός του έπαιξε σε μερικές ταινίες για να τον χρηματοδοτήσει) και αργότερα πήρε τον τίτλο του υποκόμη του Νόριτς (Norwich) ενώ αυτή αποφάσισε να μην αλλάξει το όνομά της και κράτησε το όνομα με το οποίο είναι γνωστή,
λαίδη Νταϊάνα Κούπερ. Έκαναν έναν παιδάκι, τον
John Julius Norwich, που μεγάλωσε και έγινε γνωστός ιστορικός. Δύο τουλάχιστον από τα βιβλία του έχουν μεταφραστεί στα ελληνικά, η γνωστή
Σύντομη ιστορία του Βυζαντίου και η
Ιστορία της Βενετίας.
Στην
Ιστορία της Βενετίας (τέτοιο ταξίδι, μέσω Λαρίσης, δεν σας έχω ξανακάνει, αλλά ενθουσιάστηκα επειδή γνώριζα τη λαίδη Κούπερ [όχι προσωπικά, ντε, από τη βιογραφία της] και τον Νόριτς από την Ιστορία του Βυζαντίου, αλλά όχι τη σχέση τους — μέχρι σήμερα) ο Νόριτς γράφει για τον δόγη Πιέτρο Ορσέολο Β΄ και τον γιο του τον Τζοβάνι, που τον είχε παντρέψει με τη Μαρία Αργυρή. Και υπάρχει απόσπασμα από τον Πέτρο Δαμιανό — τον άγιο Πέτρο Δαμιανό, που πραγματικά μισούσε τη δόγισσα.
Having first associated the nineteen-year-old Giovanni with him on the ducal throne, he sent him off with his younger brother Otto on a state visit to Constantinople, where it was arranged for him to marry the Princess Maria Argyra, niece of the two joint Emperors [Basil II, the Bulgar-Slayer, –one of the greatest Emperors in Byzantine history– … and his brother, Constantine VIII … a pleasure-loving nonentity]. The ceremony took place in the imperial chapel, with the Patriarch officiating and the co-Emperors both present to crown the bridal pair in the Eastern fashion – simultaneously bestowing upon them the relics of St Barbara. Magnificent celebrations followed, after which the couple withdrew to a palace which had been put at their disposal. The young Dogaressa was in an advanced state of pregnancy by the time they returned to Venice.
Pietro Orseolo II was now at the climax of his career. By his statesmanship he had raised the Republic to new heights of prosperity and prestige. By his valour he had averted, for many years to come, the two principal threats to its security — the Slavs to the east and the Saracens to the south. He had established a Venetian presence —and a modified form of dominion— over the Dalmatian coast. Meanwhile, on a personal level, he had bound his family by bonds of marriage or compaternity to both the Byzantine and the Western Empires and, for the first time in sixty years, has associated a son with him as Doge. But, as his power and reputation grew, so too did the trappings of majesty with which he tended to surround himself. It was not surprising that many Venetians began to wonder whether success was not going to his head and whether he was not secretly planning, as more than one of his predecessors had planned before him, to establish a hereditary monarchy throughout the lagoon.
Then, suddenly, his world collapsed. In the autumn of 1005 a blazing comet appeared in the southern sky, remaining there for three months. Everyone knew it to be a portent; and sure enough early the following year Venice was struck by famine — a famine that the new Dalmatian sources of supply, which had suffered as much as those on the Italian mainland, could do nothing to alleviate. In its wake came plague, carrying off —among many hundreds of more humble citizens— young Giovanni, his Greek wife and their baby son. St Peter Damian, with ill-concealed satisfaction, attributes the Dogaressa's death to divine retribution for her sybaritic oriental ways:
Such was the luxury of her habits that she scorned even to wash herself in common water, obliging her servants instead to collect the dew that fell from the heavens for her to bathe in. Nor did she deign to touch her food with her fingers, but would command her eunuchs to cut it up into small pieces, which she would impale on a certain golden instrument with two prongs and thus carry to her mouth. Her rooms, too, were so heavy with incense and various perfumes that it is nauseating for me to speak of them, nor would my readers readily believe it. But this woman’s vanity was hateful to Almighty God; and so, unmistakably, did He take his revenge. For He raised over her the sword of His divine justice, so that her whole body did putrefy and all her limbs began to wither, filling her bedchamber with an unbearable odour such that no one —not a handmaiden, nor even a slave— could withstand this dreadful attack on the nostrils; except for one serving-girl who, with the help of aromatic concoctions, conscientiously remained to do her bidding. And even she could only approach her mistress hurriedly, and then immediately withdraw. So, after a slow decline and agonizing torments, to the joyful relief of her friends she breathed her last.
[Since Peter Damian does not refer to Maria Argyra by name, not to the deaths —at the same time and by the same causes— of her husband and son, some authorities have suggested that he may have confused her with another Greek Dogaressa: Theodora, the wife of Doge Domenico Selvo. As Selvo became Doge only in 1071, however, and Petet Damian himself died in February 1072, this theory does not seem very probable. It may well be that Peter did not know about the plague — or if he did that he kept quiet about it, for the very good reason that it would have ruined his story.]
