Yes, I had a couple of reservations. Lucia is part of a repertory that has become fair game for music editors, who hide behind a pretense of scholarly authenticity with one hand, and go snip snip snip with the other: a second stanza dropped here, a repeat or a cadence formula dropped there. Just in Lucia’s opening scene, the complex of arias that proceeds from “Regnava Nel Silenzio” and ends with the duet with Edgardo that is on every Italian barrel-organ, I kept hearing the snip of the editor’s scissors. The more this repertory becomes known — through enlightened performances and dozens of recordings — the more audible, and therefore the more painful, these minor surgeries become. All told, they don’t remove more than, say, 10 minutes from the complete score, yet you feel their pain, their drip, drip . . .