The staggering success of the two Faustus afterpieces in the 1723-24 season was wholly unforeseen. I find myself in complete agreement with John O'Brien, who has argued that their staging was, and continues to be regarded as a truly significant “event.” They sharply defined a moment, he proposes, that created a “distinct before and after.” Before they were presented, in other words, pantomimes didn't occupy a particularly important place among theatrical offerings on the London stages, but after their remarkably successful appearance pantomimes would remain a conspicuous part of professional theatre programming for at least two decades. O'Brien writes:

I also concur with O'Brien's observation that the Faustus afterpieces essentially appropriated components—a “synthesis” of dance, song, spectacle, commedia, and classical mythology—that had been in place in the London playhouses since the time of the restoration. What O'Brien neglects to offer commentary on, however, is the rather curious role classical mythology has to play in the Faustus entertainments. Classical myth comes into play in Harlequin Doctor Faustus just twice. Early in the proceedings the Doctor conjures a brief appearance from the “Spirit of Helen,” who performs a short dance to entertain his three “Scholars.” In the concluding “Masque of Heathen Deities,” no tale drawn from the classics is presented. Instead, a random selection of gods and goddesses is assembled to celebrate the outcome of a story from comparatively more recent times. And in The Necromancer Helen makes another brief appearance in the opening scene, this time to sing a short binary song with which to beguile the Doctor. Mythology drives the necromancy scene with Hero, Leander, and eventually Charon, but the story told here is not about the living Hero and Leander, it is about their impending afterlife, about which audiences learn little, beyond their happiness at being reunited.