Gladiator Monologue

Salve 7A! Today I will be doing a monologue for a gladiator!
My heart pounds like a drum as thousands of romans scream in delight as I slay yet another gladiator in these accursed games. It is not my wish to participate in this horrid ring of blood, pain and death, but I must, for I am Priscus, a Celt, born and raised on the outskirts of Cisalpini, and captured by roman soldiers in 55 B.C whilst protecting my country. I worked in a pit, mining stone for Rome’s grand new city. One day a man came to our hole, he was a recruiter for a ‘games’ of sorts. I wasn’t picked at first, but they had second thoughts after a madman decided to hit me in the face, outraged I threw him to the ground and returned the favour. After a few minutes of squabbling, we were pulled apart and
But despite that, we were treated pretty well while we weren’t fighting, we were also paid ridiculous amounts of money and were even allowed to go out in the streets of Rome, mostly supervised though. Once I received an invitation to a very rich Roman household for a party. Deciding to attend, I travelled there alone and unaware of what they wanted from me, well, it was definitely not what I expected. Wanting to know what the main entertainment was, I asked the patron – he only said one word in response – “You,” suddenly, a man was attacking me, I had been thrown a sword, and the next moment he was dead on the ground, lying in a pool of his own blood. For the rest of that night I had a sick feeling in my stomach, not one where I had killed a fellow gladiator by the command of my owner, but because I had killed a free-man of my own accord. It was a few months later that I end up here, in the “great” Flavian Amphitheatre. My heart pounds like a drum as thousands of romans scream in delight as I slay yet another gladiator in these accursed games. I wait for my next opponent, little did I know he would be my last, we fought, and as we did this