It's hard to express a joke in written form and it's even harder to convey a delicate combination of affection and irony without an actual voice behind it. Interpreting the precise tone Beaumont intended is a real problem readers face when reading The Knight of the Burning Pestle.

Are the Citizen and his wife's an early incarnation of the two old guys on The Muppet Show or are they rather the Christopher Sly-esque characters [from The Taming of the Shrew] that are mocked and paraded about with the intent to humiliate their real-life equivalents?

It's possible Beaumont truly enjoys the foibles of the well-meaning but utterly clueless middle class representations he embeds in his play. The Citizen and his wife are perhaps most affectionately depicted at the very end of the play. As the Citizen tries to chivvy his wife out the door, the actor playing her turns to the audience and addresses them: “I thank you all, gentlemen, for your patience and countenance to Rafe… I thank you with all my heart. G-d give you good night. – Come George,” (5.3-4, 10-12). The wife teases the audience, jokes with them, even winks at them – her character is simply too much fun to be an outright mean-spirited caricature. Her eagerness to direct the action of the play is something that audiences could relate to – endearing because she mirrors them.

Likewise, her husband’s affection and care for Rafe seems unfeigned and exceptional. To Rafe he says, “Hark you, Rafe, do not strain yourself too much at the first,” (1.213-214). This is, according to the plot and the traditions of the time, a boy who would have lived in his house with the Citizen and his wife, learning the trade of a grocer as the Citizen’s apprentice. Clearly, in the relationship that is depicted here, Rafe is like a son to this couple. They are proud of him, delight in him, and still treat him like the child he is – and was played by.