Honan, in talking about an unattributed play, which may be Marlowe juvenilia, quotes this passage.
Fire water sword confounde yee, let the crowes
Feed on your peckt out entrailes, and your bones
Wante a sepulchre; worthy, o worthy yee
That thus have falsifi'd your faith to me
To dwell in Phlegeton. Rushe on me heav'n
Soe that on them it rushe; mount Caucasus
fall on my shoulders, soe on them it fall.
Paine I respecte not....
--Timon, Anonymous, circa 1580
(I've punctuated a little for clarity.)
It's got that arrogance and...personal disregard that marks his stuff. If Will effaces himself from his work, Kit *commits*. Like a cliff diver, sometimes. That--fall on me, heaven, so long as you fall on my enemies as well!--is very Marlovian, and the phrasing of "Pain I respect not" rings to me like the guy who said he'd liefer lose his life than his liberty of speech.
Also, blank verse. In 1580. Which Honan doesn't mention, but it strikes me as significant.
(Honan, winning my love even more, goes on to provide a host of reasons why he's skeptical about the attribution. I'm going to send this man a Christmas card. I really am. Good gravy. He's... scholarly.)
truepenny, when I sent her the above, commented on how that particular brand of hubristic rage is what Marlowe's rhetoric springs from, which was a comment that I really, really liked, and to which I responded:
He's a guy, essentially, who is too fucking mad to shut up even when it would be much smarter to do so. A lot like Ginsberg in that, really.