I will not speak with her

Queen Gertrude
I will not speak with her.
Gentleman
She is importunate,
Indeed distract; her mood will needs be pitied.
Queen Gertrude
What would she have?

So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Gentleman
She speaks much of her father, says she hears
There’s tricks i’ th’ world, and hems, and beats her heart,
Spurns enviously at straws, speaks things in doubt
That carry but half sense. Her speech is nothing,
Yet the unshapèd use of it doth move
The hearers to collection. They aim at it
And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;
Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield them,
Indeed would make one think there might be thought,
Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
Horatio
’Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
Queen Gertrude
Let her come in. Gentleman exits.
Aside.  To my sick soul (as sin’s true nature is),
Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss.
So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.