What happens
Edward brings the mortally wounded Warwick to the ground at Barnet. As Warwick dies, he mourns his lost power and influence—comparing himself to a mighty cedar felled by an axe. Somerset and Oxford arrive too late with news that the queen has raised a fresh army in France, but Warwick's time has ended. Edward claims victory and prepares to march toward Tewkesbury.
Why it matters
Warwick's death marks the turning point of the entire play. The man who has 'set up and pulled down' kings—who crowned and deposed Henry, who raised Edward—now finds himself powerless before the very forces he helped unleash. His final speech is one of Shakespeare's most poignant meditations on the fragility of power. Warwick compares himself to a mighty cedar whose branches sheltered eagles and whose roots protected smaller trees from winter winds. But now those eyes 'dimmed with death's black veil' can no longer search out treasons, those wrinkles that were 'likened to kingly sepulchres' are filled with blood. The kingmaker has become just another corpse. What makes this moment devastating is not Warwick's defeat in battle, but his recognition that all his years of manipulation and strategic genius amount to nothing—he dies knowing his lands, his parks, his carefully built estate will pass to others.
The arrival of Somerset and Oxford with news of the queen's fresh army underscores the play's central horror: the war will not end. Even Warwick's death does not bring peace. The cycle of violence that has consumed England will continue—Margaret is raising armies, new battles loom. Warwick's final acceptance that he 'must yield' his body to the earth carries a quiet dignity, but also a sense of futility. He will not live to see the resolution he fought for. Edward's brisk victory and immediate march toward Tewkesbury show a man who has learned to move with violence, to treat war not as a moral crisis but as a necessary tool of power. The contrast between Warwick's eloquent death and Edward's businesslike triumph suggests that the age of the old nobility—of men like Warwick who understood kingship as an art—is ending. What emerges is a colder, more pragmatic world.