I can still learn. One turn of
her beautiful head, one glance of her eye, one light motion of her hand,
is, with her, sufficient to express a passion. She can raise the soul
of the spectator to the highest pitch of astonishment and delight by one
tone of her voice. 'O Dio!' as it comes from her breast, swelling over
her lips, is of indescribable effect." Poetical and enthusiastic by
temperament, the crowning excellence of her art was a grand simplicity.
There was a sublimity in her expressions of vehement passion which was
the result of measured force, energy which was never wasted, exalted
pathos that never overshot the limits of art. Vigorous without violence,
graceful without artifice, she was always greatest when the greatest
emergency taxed her powers.

Pasta's second great part at the Theatre Italien was in Rossini's
"Tancredi," an impersonation which was one of the most enchanting and
finished of her lighter _roles_. "She looked resplendent in the casque
and cuirass of the Red Cross Knight. No one could ever sing the part of
_Tancredi_ like Mine. Pasta: her pure taste enabled her to add grace to
the original composition by elegant and irreproachable ornaments. 'Di
tanti palpiti' had been first presented to the Parisians by Mme. Fodor,
who covered it with rich and brilliant embroidery, and gave it what
an English critic, Lord Mount Edgcumbe, afterward termed its
country-dance-like character. Mine. Pasta, on the contrary, infused into
this air its true color and expression, and the effect was ravishing."

"Tancredi" was quickly followed by "Otello," and the impassioned
spirit, energy, delicacy, and tenderness with which Pasta infused the
character of _Desdemona_ furnished the theme for the most lavish praises
on the part of the critics. It was especially in the last act that her
acting electrified her audiences. Her transition from hope to terror,
from supplication to scorn, culminating in the vehement outburst "_sono
innocente_," her last frenzied looks, when, blinded by her disheveled
hair and bewildered with her conflicting emotions, she seems to seek
fruitlessly the means of flight, were awful. The varied resources of the
great art of tragedy were consummately drawn forth by her _Desdemona_,
in this opera, though she was yet to astonish the world with that
impersonation imperishably linked with her name in the history of art.
"Elisabetta" and "Mose in Egitto" were also revived for her, and she
filled the lead