Out with it!" But Pinocchio was as stubborn as ever.
"Are you deaf?
Wait, young man, we'll get it from you in a twinkling!" One of them grabbed the Marionette by the nose and the other by the chin, and they pulled him unmercifully from side to side in order to make him open his mouth.
All was of no use.

The Marionette's lips might have been nailed together.

They would not open.
In desperation the smaller of the two Assassins pulled out a long knife from his pocket, and tried to pry Pinocchio's mouth open with it.
Quick as a flash, the Marionette sank his teeth deep into the Assassin's hand, bit it off and spat it out.

Fancy his surprise when he saw that it was not a hand, but a cat's paw.
Encouraged by this first victory, he freed himself from the claws of his assailers and, leaping over the bushes along the road, ran swiftly across the fields.

His pursuers were after him at once, like two dogs chasing a hare.
After running seven miles or so, Pinocchio was well-nigh exhausted.
Seeing himself lost, he climbed up a giant pine tree and sat there to see what he could see.