THE British are coming, the British are coming – never mind, they’re here.

There has been a stealthy British invasion of Broadway this season, with the Brits not originating major roles with all its attendant fanfare, but quietly taking them over: Dame Eileen Atkins in “Doubt,” Simon Russell Beale in “Spamalot,” and now, two-time Tony winner Jonathan Pryce replacing John Lithgow in “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.”

Few batons can have been passed more elegantly. This David Yazbek/Jeffrey Lane musical about con artists conning their conniving hearts out on the French Riviera is as wackily wonderful as ever, and Pryce – back on Broadway after a 14-year absence – fits in like a hustler’s fifth ace in a bent poker game.

As Lawrence Jamison, an English crook swindling dumb, beautiful and rich women out of their earthly possessions for his greater good, the multi-accented Pryce proves the pinnacle of gracious chic, the embodiment of suave, as smooth as a martini hardly stirred and never shaken.

In a word, he’s sensational – and he needs to be, since he’s playing against a histrionically hysteric whirlwind Norbert Leo Butz as the crass young American grifter, Freddy Benson.

With director Jack O’Brien acting as barman, they go together like vintage brandy and raw moonshine, and the result is a madly intoxicating hooch that’s a hoot.

Joining this magnetic duo is Rachel York (replacing Sherie Rene Scott) and showing just the right shy bravura as the unexpected object of their joint affections, plus another bright newcomer, Mylinda Hull, as a marriage-bent Texan heiress.

Remaining happily from the original cast, as a joyous pair of lovers in experience, are the savvy Joanna Gleason and the wary Gregory Jbara.

Now in its second year, “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels” stays as gloriously dirty as ever. I loved it.

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DIRTY ROTTEN SCOUNDRELS

[*** 1/2] (Three and one-half stars)

Imperial Theater, 249 W. 45th St.; (212) 239-6200.