I believe that Boito then made a trip to France. At all events, he had returned to Italy in 1862, and was already proving his poetic talent by writing the verse of the _Inno delle Nazioni_, of which Verdi wrote the music, and which was performed at Her Majesty's Theatre, London, on the occasion of the opening of the Universal Exposition in that city. Soon afterward he again became poet collaborator, furnishing his friend Franco Faccio with the libretto of an opera entitled _Amleto_, which was given with some success at the Carlo Felice theatre, Genoa, in 1865, but which, given some years later, in 1871, at the Scala of Milan, suffered a signal and memorable defeat. In 1866, when Italy was at war with Austria, Boito, who is an ardent patriot, enlisted as a volunteer and served the campaign in the ranks of Garibaldi's army. The 5th of March, 1868, was the important date in Arrigo Boito's artistic career; it was the date of the first performance, at the Scala theatre, Milan, of his _Mephistopheles_, an opera in five acts with prologue, the complete failure of which formed an epoch in the history of the theatre in Italy. He had already spent several years of labor on this important work, for which, as the title implies, he had been inspired by Goethe's _Faust_, and which he had counted on giving this title, when the unexpected appearance at the Scala of Gounod's _Faust_, and the success which it obtained there, came to cause him considerable disquietude, and obliged him, that he might not be accused of servile imitation, to modify the plan of his work, and to change even its title. He called it _Mephistopheles_, and proceeded with as much persistence as ever to have it performed at the theatre which had just seen Gounod's masterpiece applauded. The fiasco of _Mephistopheles_ was tremendous and rarely had a storm burst with such fury under the roof of the Scala. The author had given such free scope to his fancy both in the music and the poem, that the Milanese public was quite upset by his ultra romantic methods and indignant at a work which diverged so widely from the beaten track. Yet, although they cried out at the sacrilege and hissed furiously, those of the spectators whose minds were not warped by prejudice, recognized in this work, in spite of its faults, the breath of an intelligent, earnest and inspired artist. Here is what an Italian biographer of Boito says on the subject: